To Catch a Tiger
by nocturne tigress
Summary: Here we are, back to home. Been gone for a while.Hope it hasn't changed much. Especially not our brothers. But then, how could they stay the same?--Lolly and Dess come home after Johnny dies and try to stay out of chaos...summary sucks, see what's inside
1. Prologue

Hello. This is my first story, so let me have whatever you've got to say, but flames will not be addressed or listened to. The usual diclaimer- I don't own Dallas, or the other outsiders, but I own Dess, and that's all I can ask for.

"Tiger, tiger, burning bright,

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies,

Burns the fires in your eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What hand would dare to seize the tiger?"

Prologue

Love Redefined

You know what annoys me? People thinking love is perfection. Yeah, not so much. Love is work at first. You've gotta solve each other's problems, work as a team, totally trust each other. And sometimes you fall down. Hard. In fact, every true relationship falls down. You know that it'll work when, at the lowest point of the deepest hole you've ever fallen in, he pulls you out. Love is blind, but it sees in ways we can't. It sees souls in people everybody else sees as heartless and destined to die alone.

Love is strong, but at first, it's fragile. It's a thin, glistening strand of gossamer moonlight, stretched between two people. And if one of them jerks-you guessed it-the gossamer breaks.

Love is constant, but it changes people in ways nothing else can. It can take a cold, heartless, mean player and turn him soft, caring and loyal. It can take a broken, lost soul and give her direction, heal her.

Sometimes love works in mysterious ways. Sometimes something you think is terrible and the worst thing that ever happened to you can lead you to love. Sometimes what seems like a lucky break is actually a second chance-to fulfill your destiny right. And it grows in the strangest places imaginable. Where everything seems cold and uncaring, love will blossom like a rose. Remember that. And always keep your eyes wide open. You only get one chance.


	2. Enter the Tiger

Disclaimer-I don't own the Outsiders

Dess's POV

I woke up the morning of May 11, 1995 in my own bed, which was strange, since I had fallen asleep on the couch downstairs. I mulled over my exceptionally strange encounter with the Lord of the Hoods last night for about ten minutes and stopped abruptly when I came to the conclusion that I wanted to see him again. Not as though that could happen. First obstacle-my big brother, leader of the gang, Darryl Shayne Curtis, Jr.

Darry was the one who had wanted me to come home after Johnny died, as a way to cheer Ponyboy up. He had sent me to our Aunt who lived in Kearney, Nebraska when our parents died- a failed attempt to keep me well off the streets. I came home only a year after the incident involving Johnny's death and my exceptional dancing partner's attempt at suicide. This happened to be…yesterday.

And I was already in trouble. I sighed and stomped downstairs, realizing as I did so that I was in the clothes I had worn yesterday: a tight, low collared shirt and a pair of mid-thigh shorts. Huh, no duh Dallas had found me if I was dressed like this.

As I stepped off the last stair, my mouth dropped open in amazement. The whole gang had somehow fitted itself inside my house. Soda, my godly other big bro wove through chairs and such, some of which holding still-sleeping greasers. He tapped Pony, my only little brother, on the head sharply to wake him up. One of the gang, I don't know his name, but he had an amazing jaw line and hard brown eyes, laughed when Pony jumped.

A rusty-haired greaser with bright grey eyes said something to Pony, who grimaced. The redhead howled with laughter. And sitting on the couch with his feet kicked up on the coffee table, reading the paper while shouting something at the kitchen, was Dallas Winston. He stopped in mid shout as he saw me come down, out of the corner of his eye, even though I had been quiet as moonshine.

He nodded ever so slightly at me and resumed what he was shouting, presumably at Darry. As I crossed the living room into the kitchen, he stood and followed me. I heard somebody say something then chuckle. Dallas picked up a shoe from the floor as we walked and threw it over his shoulder.

"Ouch! Hey Dally, what was that for?"

"How many times have you been told not to be lewd when there are kids around, Two-Bit?" Dallas replied softly, but somehow his sharp voice carried. He must have had better hearing than me, because I had only heard an utterance, when he must have heard all of what Two-Bit said. I stifled a laugh and walked into the kitchen with a straight face.

Darry turned when he heard my bare feet patter on the tiles of the floor. I envied Dallas, for even with his sneakered feet, he made no sound.

"Well, look who's finally up. Guess a party this early in your homecoming was a bad idea huh?"

"Sorry Darry," I muttered, looking at the ground. Dallas had stopped a half pace behind me and now stood with his legs braced apart and his arms folded behind him. Like a prison guard, I though bitterly.

"Sorry? Did I not tell you that some people on this side of town could give you more than you asked for? Did I not _tell you _that you could get hurt?"

"He didn't do anything!" I exclaimed heatedly, my head snapping up. "So he danced with me, big deal! I don't see you yelling at Soda, and he was dancing with Lolly!"

"Soda is-" he didn't finish.

"Soda is what? Tougher? Older? A _guy_? How very sexist of you to notice," I countered vehemently.

"Soda is _careful_. You haven't been here long enough to tell trouble from a good time."

"Says you! I was on the streets in Kearney! Ever thought of that? I've worked my way out of situations worse than last night, believe me. That was not dangerous. And he didn't hurt me, so I don't see any reason we should even be having this conversation! He showed me a good time. It wasn't anything but a favor."

_Lie,_ my conscience piped up. _Shut up_, I argued with myself. _What he doesn't know won't hurt him._

"Darry, lay off her. She didn't know it was me."

"And that's another thing! Do you know what-" another break off. This time he glanced at Dallas, who shrugged.

"Don't worry bout it. I've heard this before. Not like it ain't the truth."

"Do you know what he's capable of?" Darry finished.

"Does it look like I care?" I asked moodily.

"You should." I looked up in surprise. It was not Darry who had spoken, but Dallas. He looked at Darry. "Darr, I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again. I get that you wouldn't want me around her. Just…don't be too hard on her. It was mostly my fault anyway." He turned to leave. "See ya round, Dess."

I stood glaring at Darry until the screen door slammed and Dallas was gone. Then I noticed that the living room was silent. Everyone had been listening to the argument. I felt a blush creep up my neck. Darry sighed.

"You can go, Dess. It's not like I can stop either of you from doing whatever the hell you want. Just be careful around him. He can go from controlled to animal-" he snapped his fingers. "That fast."

"I've dealt with his type before," I replied nodding. "He's nothing I can't handle. At least he doesn't drink anymore." I had heard Dallas had stopped both drinking and smoking when Johnny died, but I still glanced at Darry for correction. He shook his head.

"Still sober, by some miracle." I nodded and left the kitchen. I felt all eyes on me as I climbed the stairs to my room.



Dallas's POV

Confusion made me walk the streets of east side Tulsa aimlessly. I honestly didn't know what was wrong with me. There was definitely something wrong, but I didn't know what. I felt sick, but no greaser ever got sick because we were so hardy. We only went to the hospital when we were hurt bad from a fight or rumble.

Sick and confused, I thought. What a way to be when you're walking the streets alone. I knew no one in their right mind would jump me…unless they had friends. Not that I was worried. That was the last thing on my mind. I had awoken this morning on the Curtis' couch, seeing as it was free after I'd carried Dess up to her room, feeling lighter and more alive than I had ever felt.

"Hey, for the first time in my life, I have a purpose!" I had mumbled. It had felt as though a weight I had been carrying so long I was used to it was gone. And I couldn't get Dessarea Curtis's face out of my head.

"That little broad's gonna be more trouble than she's worth," I muttered darkly. Still, though. I had made a pledge to myself a long time ago that no girl would get me hung up. No way would the untouchable demigod Dallas Winston fall for a mere mortal. Every girlfriend had just been a way to pass the time.

Then why had a part of me growled when Dess had claimed that the dance last night had been nothing? Why had a random thought in my mind told me to force Darry to lay off her, instead of requesting it? Why had it been so hard to walk away peacefully from a fight that wasn't even mine? My mental beating ceased as I began to hear a set of car tires crunching slowly on the gravel road behind me.

"_Oh, just what I need_," I thought. "_The West. This early in the morning_."

The car didn't go away, didn't speed up. My eyes flickered ahead without me raising my head, and I saw he was coming out of the residential area, with its cramped and dark streets, and into the main part of town. My hand drifted lazily to the pocket of my brown leather jacket, searching for my blade. With a soft curse, I remembered I had left it at the Curtis' place. I could picture it clearly, sitting on the coffee table. Not where it should be.

Sweeping the ground with my hard gaze, I started looking for a piece of scrap lumber, a busted bottle, even a piece of glass big enough to hold in my hand. I might get my own hand sliced a little, but that was a small price to pay. Or, if nothing could be found, I could fight with just my fists and win. It was just that bare hands would take longer, and I was trying to think.

There was nothing in the immediate vicinity that I could use, but I saw a glinting something in the grass about seven yards away and above it a broken window. _That could work_, I thought, _provided it's big enough when I get there, and I do get there before they get to me._ I knew I had no such chance. The car had been trailing me for about three minutes already, waiting to see if I was going to meet somebody, but it was pretty obvious I was alone and was going to stay that way.

_Fists it is then._ I sighed resignedly and began cracking knuckles. Then I tensed up, cussing myself out ferociously in my head. Up till now, I had missed the sound of feet on asphalt. One of them must have jumped out. I had to give whoever it was credit; I hadn't heard them do it. I winced slightly at the sound of a blade flicking out of its own handle. This could get a little messier than I had originally planned.

A thickly muscled arm circled around my chest and tightened. I could have and would have broken out of its grasp if I hadn't felt the cruelly cold metal of a switchblade press directly over my windpipe.

Suddenly and surprisingly, I had a desperate urge to fight and get out alive. I had never really cared if I won or lost, I just usually won for reputational reasons. Now I wanted to walk away from this fight in good condition. Because I_ wanted_ to see Dessarea Curtis again. I

wanted it with every fiber of my being.

"Ready to die, greaser?"



Dess's POV

I stayed in my room for ages, drawing and writing-my favorite ways of working out my creative energy. The first drawing I did was a masterpiece. An angel, male, with huge feathery wings and a tee shirt and jeans. The thing that made him unique was that one hand was chained-on a rather short chain-to a brick wall plastered in graffiti. He was on his knees, the chained hand clenched into a fist. A girl-mortal, no less-stood away from him with a pained expression on her face.

As I jerked out of the stupor I usually fell into while drawing with something on my mind, I realized that the damned angel had fine, pixyish features, and the girl bore a striking resemblance to me. The angel carried a fierce, fiery pride in his eyes, and the girl looked a bit frightened, but she didn't turn away. Struck by a sudden storyline, I grabbed a lined pad and a pencil, cursing it for not being sharp. I wrote the title out in delicate, curving script and neatly printed beneath it the title of the first chapter in my small, even manuscript handwriting.

An hour later, my hand was cramped from writing so fast and so small, but I was proud of myself for having written with no stops or places where I had to think. My old English teacher always said that words poured out of me like milk and honey, which was fine with me. I stood and stretched like a cat, wincing slightly as my back popped unpleasantly. I crossed my room to the door.

"Lolly!" I yelled. "Come up here, I have something for you to read and edit!" A faint "Kay!" satisfied me, and I closed the door again. Lolly's love was editing, and she ate up anything I wrote. She had never been quite the writer I was, had never been as good with words, but she was a lingual genius. Commas, fragments, run-ons, intransitive verbs, these were her life blood. Not so much spelling, but I was pretty much a walking dictionary anyway.

About three milliseconds later, Lolly was tramping up the stairs and banging on my door mercilessly. I let her in with a bit of a smirk on my face and she sat on my bed and pulled the pad toward her.

"What tense is this in?"

"Past."

"As always. I'm guessing first person?"

"Yes, with a little third person from the male character. Marked with obvious symbols so you don't bite my head off this time."

"Good my pet, you're learning. Pen please." I rolled my eyes behind her back and fought off a smile. After a moment of rummaging about in the messenger bag that served as my backpack in the fall and my writing case in the summer, I procured a red gel pen. She took in from me with a dignified satisfaction and commenced editing. I grabbed a second notebook and began writing the third chapter of my brainchild.

After a few minutes of relentless editing, Lolly spoke. "Dess, what on _earth_ inspired this masterful piece of writing?"

"A sketch," I replied evasively.

"Can I see it?"

"Promise me you won't tell anyone it exists first. I don't think I'm quite ready to show it to anyone yet. I'll tell you the story behind it later."

"I promise," she told me seriously, crossing her fingers over her heart.

"Okay, I guess it can't hurt. Here." I reached under the bedspread and withdrew the beautiful drawing I had finished a while ago. When she saw it, her jaw dropped and her tawny-gold eyes widened.

"Is this you and-?" she asked, but I cut her off before she could say Dallas's name.

"Yes. I told you I would tell you the story. Do you want to hear it now?" She nodded in awe.

"How did I know?" I sighed. I took a deep breath and pondered exactly how much detail I would put into the telling. "It started last night…"

And so, much to my apprehension, I told Lolly about how I felt about Dallas, how we had met, and, ultimately, the reason for Darry's and my yelling fest. At the end of the all too real yarn, Lolly sat back and pulled something that resembled fish lips, her eyes becoming a brownish-gold, which they always did was she was considering something.

"Do you think he feels that way about you?" she asked gently.

"Hell no. Ain't no way a guy like him's gonna fall for someone like me. He's too wild and I'm too tame."

"I wouldn't be so sure if I was you."

"What are you insinuating?"

"You didn't see the way he looked when he walked out of that kitchen. He looked like he was about ready to haul off and smack the next thing that came within three feet of him. And…he looked a little hurt, if you'd believe it."

"Why would he be hurt over something I said?" I asked, a little annoyed.

"I dunno. Maybe he liiiiikes you…" I frowned.

"Don't even. You know what? I know for a fact Soda-ki liiiikes _you_." She gasped, her eyes lighting up.

"Really? How do you know?"

"I'm his sister. His eyes are my library. I can read all the Curtis boys like open books." Lolly sighed wistfully.

"Yeah, I wish I could do that with Two-Bit." I remembered then that Lolly was a sister to one of the gang, although which had slipped my mind for a moment.

"Which one is he again?"

"The redhead…the one who laughed at you two earlier."

"Oooh. The one Dallas threw a shoe at. Right. What did he say, exactly?"

"Hon, take it from me, you do not want to know. I'm kinda surprised Soda didn't hit him for saying something like that about his sister."

"I see. Do I have your permission to hit him when we go downstairs?'

"Why do you need my permission?"

"Oh, it ain't like that's gonna stop me, just thought I'd drop you a warning." She shook her head as though pitying me. "What?"

"It's just…they way they talk is already rubbing off on you. Ain't…gonna…him's…"

"I like it. It just sounds smoother than the right way. And they way they move, how they can tell you what they're thinking with one look. I just wish I could be like that."

"I know. It's kind of a commanding aura when one of them walks in the room. And that weird way they have of talking so low, but everyone in the room can hear them."

We were both transfixed by the strange, quiet power the gang possessed. You could feel strength and lethalness coming off them in waves, but it was behind a quiet, calm front.

Like a tiger. I guess the best way to describe it is this; when you see a tiger in a zoo or someplace, sometimes it'll look right at you like its saying "I could kill you without even trying. I'm stronger and faster and more powerful than you, and I know it. But I won't. I'll just sit here. You never did anything to me." It's like that. Weird and bizarre and ridiculously freaky.

Now, Tim Shepard's gang, or the Socs, there's another deal. They're like mean dogs. The ones that growl at you and throw themselves at the fence and bark at you, generally making fools of themselves. Flashy and arrogant, all smoke and mirrors. Our greasers are the really dangerous dogs. Then ones that just watch you and wait. Never make a noise. Never threaten. Until you do something to them.

So I had my challenge. Catch a tiger by the tail…


	3. Enter the Snake

The usual disclaimer. you know how it goes. and I'm not posting the next chapter till I get at least ten reviews. ;)

Dallas's POV

"Ready to die greaser?" The knife that coupled these words had made an image of my ultimate desire leap into my head. A sudden realization that I, Dallas Winston the Immortal, was deeply hung up on a slim, innocent, unsuspecting girl. But the voice that spoke the words made me laugh with relief and sink to my knees.

"Dammit Shepard, kill a man." The cold voice laughed as well, and the blade slid harmlessly away from my exposed neck.

"You ain't a man, child. You're a kid that ain't even smart enough to pay attention to his surroundings. I thought you'd tag me for sure when I jumped out of that car."

"I was thinkin. By the way, you sure helped me sum up what I was thinkin 'bout. Who you got driving?"

"Lola." I looked around at the car that was idling a few paces behind me and Shepard. A beautiful blonde with warm hazel eyes and, as I knew himself from firsthand experience, a fiery disposition waved at me a roughish smile lighting up her features. She flicked a burning cigarette over the convertible's down window. I flicked two fingers from where they rested on my leg (I still hadn't gotten up yet), and ran a hand through my hair.

"Shit Shep, I could use a little of your help." Tim offered me a hand which I took gratefully. Then Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, which he offered to me. I declined

You know I don't do that stuff anymore."

"Still?" Tim asked, looking put-out.

"Hey Ponyboy Curtis don't, either. When Johnny Cade died, he took it bad."

"So did you," Tim replied wisely. I shot him a look.

"Yeah, well, death does that to a guy."

"I'll tell you what you need. You need a little girl that can soften you up a bit. Like Lola."

"Yup. Lola softened you up so good, you don't even have issues with jumping your own buddy with a blade." They were at the car, and I got in the backseat while Tim vaulted over the door to the passenger's side.

"Don't you got yours on you?" Tim asked, surprised.

"Nope. Left it at the Curtis' place this mornin."

"What got you mad enough to go out without a blade?"

"That's what I want your help with."

"You're notoriously short temper?" Tim guessed with a reckless grin. I smiled but didn't continue this joke.

"No, but you hit pretty close about six paragraphs ago."

"Ummm…one, two, three… the part about getting a girl?"

"There you go."

"You really thinkin about getting one for good?" Tim asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"You 'member that Dess Curtis I was dancin with last night? That was her first night home since Mr. and Mrs. Curtis died. She brought Bit's sister home, too. Well, anyway, I thought it was just dancin, you know? But the more I think about it…" I trailed off, shaking my head. Tim nodded, frowning in concentration, and I continued. "Her bro, Darry, he got mad at her for dancing with me, which I totally get, cause I'm me. I told him to lay off her and I left, cause I swear, if I woulda been there for the rest of that fight, I probably woulda ended up hitting Darry."

"You are one messed up hood. I dunno exactly what's on your mind, but I can tell you that you might be in L-O-V-E in a very big way."

"Yeah, but that's the problem. I don't _know_ if I really love her or if it's…" I glanced at Lola, who grinned at my pause. "Something else. I don't even think she likes me the same way I like her. She blew of dancing like it was nothing when Darry asked about it." Tim's jaw actually dropped when I said this.

"Well, you're being stupid enough about her to be in love. She was talking to Darryl. She had to lie so she didn't get in bigger trouble than she was already in." I looked at Tim in surprise, and then slowly brought up a hand to my face.

"Oohhhhhh I am so _stupid_!" Tim laughed.



Dess's POV

Three days after Darry's argument with me, we stood in the lot, baking in the abnormally hot Tulsa sun. It was only mid-May, the fourteenth if I remember it right. Back in Nebraska, it would have still been pleasantly cool. Not here. Here, we were panting in shorts and tanks, playing touch football.

"Sixteen! Eight! Hut…hike!" Darry snapped the ball with an easy flick of one wrist, right into Soda's waiting hands. Soda hammered it about thirty yards. I watched the ball sail over my head and I took off running after it. It was heading right for Steve, the brown haired, cool-eyed boy from before, but Two-Bit, who was the captain of my team, made an amazing running leap that shot him what must have been four and a half feet into the air, and caught it in his paw-like hands. Pony let out a whoop as Two-Bit flew towards our side of the lot. About the same time Lolly, a track star back in Kearney, started clipping a little too close to his heels, Dallas winged up next to Two-Bit and snapped his fingers for the ball. Two–Bit tossed it to him and stopped suddenly, making the speeding Lolly crash into him headlong and fall down.

Dallas cackled and continued the stretch Two-Bit had started. Pony ran up behind him to flank his run, and I did the same, just as Darry came racing up behind Dallas and tackled him. Dallas popped the ball into the air as he went down, and I caught it and lit a shuck down the lot. About twenty yards to go, and Two-Bit was running as my flanker

_We might actually make it,_ I thought. Just then, Soda came out of flipping _nowhere_ and plowed me into the ground. My outstretched hand was three feet from the wall of the building that marked our end zone.

"DAMMIT CURTIS!" For a moment, I thought Dallas was yelling at me, but then, there are a lot of Curtis's. I stood, gasping and brushing dirt and pebbles off my top and saw that he, in fact, was not yelling at me.

He was in a wrestling match with Darry that must have ensued Darry tackling him. At that moment, Darry was sitting on Dallas's chest, pinning the insides of his elbows to the ground gently with his knees and attempting to force Dallas's shoulders to the ground. The match was interrupted when a small red Stingray convertible whipped onto the street in front of the lot. Darry got up from his dominating position and Dallas jumped up after him.

I examined the car that had just pulled up, acutely aware of the stinging pain and trickling feeling that suggested a bleeding wound on my elbow. I put two fingers to the offensive elbow and drew them away sticky with blood. Cursing softly, I drew the elbow around so I could see it. My next curse was drowned out by Soda.

"Missss Cherry Valance, in. The. Flesh. Look out Dess; she's competition if I ever saw it. And I think you want Dallas pretty bad." I looked at him sharply, but he had only uttered these words, so no one had heard them but me. I remembered how easy it had been for me to tell he liked Lolly.

"Damn you, Sodapop Curtis." He laughed softly. I turned my eyes to the scene before me. Darry was walking warily up to this Cherry Valance, who I saw was a fiery haired Soc girl. She sounded familiar, and I remembered who she was a moment later.

According to the letter Soda had written to me shortly after Johnny Cade died, she had assisted the gang in coming off innocent in the hearing against Pony and had also helped them to win the rumble against the Socs by acting as a spy. It was because of this that the Soc versus Greaser war had ground to a tensioned standstill. Neither side had ever lost a man before, and now that both sides had in quick succession, neither wanted anything to do with the other…yet. It was a matter of time until the fighting broke out again.

Darry had reached Cherry and exchanged a few words with her. Apparently, her answers were to his liking, because he motioned us forward. We came, all of us, just as warily as he had, to form what was more or less a line level with Darry.

"What do you want?" Dallas asked. As Darry's right hand, he wasn't out of line to ask the question.

"Just came to see how you all were doing. It's been a while. Who are these two?" she asked, indicating to Lolly and I.

"Lollypop Mathews. I'm Two-Bit's younger sister. He sent me with Dess when Darry sent her to their aunt's place. Right after Mr. and Mrs. Curtis died." She stepped forward and shook hands with Cherry. "Soda and Pony told us the whole story. Thanks for helping the gang." Cherry took her hand and smiled warmly.

"It was my pleasure to help." Lolly stepped back in line and I took her place.

"I'm Dessarea Curtis. Third youngest Curtis. Like Lolly said, we've been in Nebraska for a while. Good to know you." I offered her my hand, and she took it as she had Lolly's.

"I want you to know something, Dessarea. It was my fault your brother and Johnny got dragged into everything. I owe you an apology."

"It wasn't your fault, Valance. It was mine. I've told you that before." Dallas spoke up from amongst our ranks. I looked at him in shock. "Need I discuss it with you over a Coke and burger at The Dingo?" My mouth actually dropped. I almost cried-almost. But immediately the sadness was consumed by betrayal. Yeah, I know he never really pledged anything to me, I had just started viewing him as mine. What I found even more unbearable was Cherry's response.

"Yeah, sure, why not. If it's going to stop you asking me. But if you try anything Winston, I swear, I will have you killed."

"Ahh, see, that's the difference between Socs and greasers," Soda stated recklessly. "Cherry says she'll have you killed, Dess would just kill you."

"There's no doubt in my mind that she would, Soda. And if she did, I would probably say I was asking for it. So Valance. Around six then."

"Sounds good, Winston. I'll drop by the Curtis' place. No offense, but my dad would have you put in jail if he saw you pick me up."

"Jail's not so scary. Half the inmates call me by name now."

"I believe it." Cherry turned to leave. "Nice meeting you, Lolly, Dessarea." As she got in the car and started the engine, I checked myself and shut my mouth before anyone noticed that I had had it open longer than the rest of them. Soda touched my arm.

"Dess, I'll take you inside and help you clean that. It needs to be covered before it gets infected." As the others filed away, he added, "Hey, are you okay? It was probably hard for you to hear that, huh? Don't worry about it. He goes through more girlfriends than anyone I know, Two-Bit included." I nodded silently. I would get Dallas Winston if it was the last thing I ever did.



Cherry's POV

Cherry could tell that she had just made Dess Curtis extremely angry. And she was sure she knew the reason why. Dallas was a hot topic amongst even Soc girls. He had always rubbed her a little too hard the wrong way, but the May heat and something about the way he had been when she chanced upon their game-almost facedown in the dirt-had made her a bit more patient with him. Perhaps the fact that he could be forced into submission, that he didn't mind being pushed into it by those he knew.

After all, she had always seen him as being the kind of person that expects submission from others, not capable of showing it himself, even if the alternative was death. Something about submitting made him that much more human.

But, she amended, hadn't he seemed human when she visited him in the hospital, shortly after he was shot by the police? Hadn't he seemed weak and fragile, on the brink of death or worse? Seeing the mighty Dallas Winston like that had scared her, much as it would scare a person to see a regal, powerful animal wounded or killed.

Now he was better than ever, off alcohol and smoking, and, as far as she could tell, much more laid back. So she would give him another chance to prove himself. It was too bad for Dess that she hadn't made her move before Cherry had. She was really going to miss out on something good.

One thing did bother her, however, something that made her frown into her rearview at the increasingly smaller gang of greasers. Dallas had stopped asking her out after the last rumble. She wondered: why now? Why now when there were two new girls in the house for him to chase? Especially when one of them so clearly wanted him? No, she didn't like it, but that could have been her being paranoid.

And besides. In all honesty, she had had a long time to think, almost six months since Bob's death, and she had come to the conclusion that she had been afraid of Dallas because he was Bob in reality. She knew it herself; Socs lived in a fantasy world. Nothing was really felt or experienced. What had made her look at Dallas twice was the fact that he had the same basic qualities as Bob had. But what had made her shy away was that he was more vivid, more bold, more rough and tough, and yes, more damned.

There was also the conclusion that, while it hurt her reputation to have a greasy hood after her, when he stopped asking, she started wishing he would ask again, so she could give him the answer he had been looking for. As Cherry drove across the railroad tracks that marked the end of the East territories and the beginning of the neutral core of the city, she smiled. In three hours, she had a date with a thug.


	4. The Inspiration Fairy and Insomiac Tim

Dess's POV

The next morning, I officially drew the battle line. If Dallas wanted to play the jealousy card, well guess what? So could I. As Two-Bit so wisely once said, "Jealousy is a double-edged carrot." I have no idea what the hell that means, but I like it.

I started going out with Steve officially at about three that afternoon. But before that, I confused Dallas beyond all reason by refusing to talk to him. Pretty much avoided him in general and watched the chaos that followed. At first he thought it was just weird, but at noon when I still wouldn't talk to him, I overheard him talking to Soda.

"Soda, why won't Dess talk to me?!"

"Innit obvious? She's _mad_ at you. For being _stupid _and _thick-headed_."

"Why would she be mad at me?"

"Probably because you're going out with Valance now."

"That ain't a serious thing, you know…I won't be with her long, now that I know Dess is mad at me. I only did it to see if she…"

"Cared enough about you to be angry?"

"Well, yeah. Tim said it was a good way to find out."

"When will you learn that what he says is crap? Trust me, it'll be better for you both if you just stop being stupid and tell her."

"No."

"Fine. Be an ass." Soda then walked away. That conversation made me mad. He was only going out with Cherry to make me jealous? Well, I would make him jealous, then.

About three hours later, I had scored a date with Steve. Dallas almost exploded. Steve walked away from a tussle they had-that Steve apparently didn't know the reason for-with a black eye and a split lip.

"Goin' out with you's gonna get me killed, just wait," he told me with a grin.

Cherry started hanging around a lot, but we couldn't kill her, much to my dismay. Even though she was a Soc, she had protection-both the fact that Dallas was going out with her and the fact that she was still an active spy. Her and Dallas didn't do much in the way of boyfriend/girlfriend stuff, but it irked me just to have her around.

Steve was, as far as it went, was a good boyfriend. He seemed to know that taking it too fast would earn him a gravestone or a place in the E.R. He was nice to me, respected Lolly as a friend, and started being a little nicer to Pony, which I liked. Romance wasn't his strong suit, but that was okay, since I was only dating him to make Dallas realize he was being stupid.

But it seemed to be having the reverse affect on him. Instead, he was getting more callous, and becoming distant with me. This scared me. I did not want it to end that way. A week after I started going out with Steve, I broke up with him.

"Why? It's only been seven days! What did I do?"

"Look, Steve, you're cool. But not for me. I've just realized I've been being really stupid about the person I really want. Do yourself a favor and find another girl. Somebody better for you than me. Sorry."

"It's Dallas, isn't it? I was surprised when he tried to beat the tar out of me, but I didn't know you liked him back. You shouldn't have wasted your time with me, Dess."

"Yeah, it is Dallas. And I'm sorry. I thought maybe he didn't want me, so I tried to move on, you know? But now…I don't know. I overheard him talking to Soda. Gawd, I dunno, but it's worth a shot, huh?" I looked up at him, and to my surprise, his eyes were wet with pity. No, it wasn't sadness, I could tell by what he said next.

"Dess, you're confused, I know, but I say you should try with him. And, you know, if it doesn't work, I'm always here. I just want you to be happy." He opened his arms when I moved toward him, and I breathed in his familiar scent. His hug was a badge of merit, I thought. It showed that, even though I knew he really wanted me, he would let me go if it was what I wanted and he would be by my side as a friend. And that meant a lot to me.



Dallas's POV

Though I knew I shouldn't be, I was happy when I was told that Steve and Dess were broken up. This pushed me even closer to making my move, but still, my confusion lingered. The main problem was my secret.

Yes, I had a secret. In fact I had several. Lightning terrifies me. I would rather kill myself

than be around grief, mourning, or loss. I cared more for my gang than I had even cared for my own parents. Sometimes I hated them for being capable of feeling so deeply and violently, when I had such trouble with feeling any deep, real emotion.

Pity the fool who harmed a child in front of me, for it was my belief that children should not feel pain, and God have _mercy_ on the fool who harmed my friends, whether in my presence or not. And I absolutely abhorred being alone. A few hours alone would make me irritable and spooked, and more than a day would have me begging whatever higher being could hear me for mercy.

Some of these were new secrets, such as the one about feeling. These were wrought by the death of Jonathan Cade, and the miraculous turnaround of my life and views.

But the secret that was my current bane of existence was that I was downright afraid of rejection by Dessarea M. Curtis. I could hide most of my secrets well; even Darryl didn't know more than two of them. Not this one. This one rocked me so deeply; I was hemmed in by it, my mind always talking me out of approaching her. It made me angry with myself, frustrated that I couldn't work up enough courage to talk to her.

So later that evening, I was pleased to see that Dess seemed to be keeping a measured distance from me.

Well, not so much pleased as relieved, but that was okay. That evening, we sat around a simple fire pit that had been made some time ago by the Curtis' father out of bricks piled on top of each other. Mrs. Curtis had always sworn that it would one day fall down, but she had been much mistaken. Now, there was a roaring fire in it, warding off the thick, inky, cool darkness.

Everyone was taking turns staring at it, lost in their own wanderings and exchanging stories and discussions. Slowly, ever so slowly, the night claimed each person in turn.

"Mmmmmm…g'night, all," Pony yawned widely, standing and stretching before stumbling stiffly inside. He was the first to fall, followed by Darry, who made the excuse of having to work the next day, and then Lolly, stretched over the course of about forty-five minutes. Two-Bit, Steve, Soda, and Dess laughed at them for their weakness.

Five minutes later, Steve had to be forcibly awoken from the lawn chair where he sat and told to go inside and sleep. Soda followed suit only after he was sure Steve was already asleep. Two-Bit called it shortly after. This left; you guessed it, the two most stubborn greasers, alone together in the night. I steeled myself against the overwhelming urge to just grab her and kiss her; I knew that, if it was to be done, it had to be done properly and with more finesse than that. Barely ten minutes had passed before Dess lost her patience.



Dess's POV

Dallas had not so much as spoken to me since Soda retreated to the house; he had just sat there, staring into the fire, lost in his own thoughts. This seemed more than ridiculous to me, it seemed downright stupid. Soda had told me specifically that Dallas was in way over his good sense with feelings for me.

Had he been lying? I couldn't see how he could have been. Plus, why would he lie? It would just cause me misery, discomfort, frustration, and other various feelings of general depression. And who would wish that upon his own sister? Yes, you are correct, no one. So _why lie_? Or, maybe he wasn't lying, and Dallas was just waiting for me to make the first move.

Or, the thought occurred to me with resounding force, could it be that he was having a debate similar to my own in his head, not noticing that he hadn't spoken in over a half an hour? I sighed. Trying to read the greaser was as difficult as what men made out to be discerning a woman's mind.

Then, I was hit and turned to roadkill by the Inspiration Fairy's eighteen wheeler. Thank you, Inspiration Fairy. I have no idea if that is a real fairy tale character, or if I'm just being…well, me, so sorry bout that. And even if there is, I don't think he would drive an eighteen wheeler. But anyway.

My sudden idea was this: What if he was afraid I didn't like him the same way? I would need to show him that I did…

"Dallas?" The word leapt out of my mouth before I could totally think through the consequences. I winced. His head turned at my voice.

"Hmmm?"

"I really don't want this to sound stupid, but a few days ago, when I told Darry that it was juts a dance and it didn't mean anything, that wasn't exactly true." He leaned forward in his chair, which was about two away from mine.

"I see."

"I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't figure out _exactly_ how I feel about you. I just…I dunno." I looked at him, recklessly splashing confusion across my face. "Do you feel…anything like that? At all?" The towheaded boy looked a bit taken aback, and I backpedaled in my head. Then, it was his turn to surprise me.

"I am an idiot, Dess. You know that, right? I am a thickheaded, impossibly stubborn idiot. And if you could ever forgive me for being one, that'd be enough for me," he said quietly. My eyes widened.

"What?"

"I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have bothered with Valance; I should've just stopped being a chicken and told you. But I didn't, so if you hate me, I totally get it." I had to laugh.

"Oh my God. Dallas, you thought I was _mad_ at you? No, that couldn't be…come with me." The Inspiration Fairy was back. Jeeze, somebody go make him a real fairy, that creature is a _saint_. I grabbed his wrist as I stood, and led him to the back porch. Once there, I leaned on the railing and stared into the sky, looking for Canis Major, specifically Sirius, the Dog Star and my good luck charm. Having found it, I looked over at Dallas, who had taken a place beside me and was also staring into the sky.

"As I was saying, that couldn't be farther from the truth, Dally. You get to me just being around."

"Really?"

"Would I make that kind of thing up? Yes really." I hugged him, which was difficult since he was still leaning against the railing of the deck, but he stood up straight ad hugged me back.

"Well, that makes us two halves of a whole idiot, now doesn't it?"

"I guess." There was a pause, and I was contented to just stand there, basking in his closeness. Warmth and comfort emanated off him in waves.

My mind, which was tired of chasing his stripped tail around and around in circles, came to a standstill. I closed my eyes and let my head drop against hid shoulder. He let out a tired sigh and rested his chin on the crown of my head.

"Dess?" I looked up at him.

"Mmm?" He caught my lips with his and just barely brushed them. Not much of a first kiss, I know, but enough to light a fire in my chest and make my lips tingle. He drew back looking mischievous.

"Nothing. C'mon, it's late, let's get inside."



Steve's POV/ 2nd person

Steve angrily snapped the blinds on the back window shut a blazed up to Soda's room. He knew that would be a sufficient refuge, Soda was a hard sleeper, and about the only way you could get him to wake up was food. He shut the door carefully and stood in the farthest corner, breathing hard and quietly, watching his friend's chest rise and fall. Thoughts bounced around in his head.

Yes, he had said he would let Dess go, and yes he had pledged his allegiance with her, but he hadn't expected her to go after Dallas this fast. It made him angry. He clenched his teeth against his outrage, making his already defined jaw line all that much more noticeable.

Steve Randal wasn't unattractive, not by a long shot, and he fell into the same facial category as Dallas; strong, hard, sharp features and cold eyes. But Steve, while Dallas had a fine, pixyish face, bore a squared jaw and a prominent chin. Both were chiseled and muscular, but where Steve was of medium height and weight, Dallas was tall and leonine. You could see ribs and bones in his arms, and you could count every bone that made up his spine. They were he same, but different.

And for the life of him, Steve couldn't see what made Dess lean toward Dallas. Every single girl Steve had ever talked to was afraid of him; he let much more of his threatening strength show than the rest of them. You could practically feel the dangerousness emanating off him. Meanwhile, Steve was quiet and easy, laughed a lot, and, like Soda, talked to everybody like he'd known them for years. Dallas…damn, he was just downright cold.

Well, one thing was for sure, Steve couldn't stand being around the two of them much longer without a fight breaking out. And since Dallas had four inches and three years more experience (he had spent three years on the rough side of New York, after all) on him, he could guess the result. Steve knew, that very night, that this was the end of him being welcome in the East side grease gang.

Dallas might not be able to kick him out, not with Darryl presiding over him, but he could make life very difficult for Steve-something he could do without. He could be shoved to the bottom of this Totem pole and held there easily. Yeah, he needed to get out fast, before something happened that resulted in scars or worse.

Only trouble was, when you left a gang, news traveled to others. They wouldn't let you in if you tried to join them, that's for sure. The last thing a gang needs is a traitor. It would be very hard for him to find another set of brothers. The only way he could see that happening was to score a spot with Tim Shepard's gang first. He already knew Tim, and if he exchanged something for membership…

But there was another snag. What could he possibly trade? Information? Cash? Fat chance. Steve sighed and tilted his head back to stare at the cracked ceiling of the room. It would be a long night, and he needed some air.

As he walked out of Soda's room and shut the door absently behind him, he didn't see Soda lift his head off the pillow, his green eyes shadowed with concern for his friend. Nor did he see, as he stole out the back door of the house, Dallas watch him leave from where he lay on the couch, silent like a predator watching an animal that was usually its prey walk away.



Tim's POV/2nd person

Other creatures were stirring that night, unbeknownst to the greaser gang. Tim Shepard was having doubts about having a girlfriend to settle down with. Much as he knew it was wrong, he was starting to take interest in this girl Dallas was chasing through his dreams. He should have known not be stupid enough to settle. He got bored easily.

He looked on smugly at the street out his window, watched the figure of a person stalk across a pool of light on the asphalt cast by a streetlight. It could only be someone who knew people here. Shepard knew that anybody else would be afraid to walk around this late in this neighborhood. Judging by his walk, he was a greaser, although Shepard didn't know who.

Dallas didn't roam the streets so much anymore, he found, and none of the others had cause to. He was too tall to be Ponyboy Curtis, Darryl's little brother; he sometimes ran around at night. He would rarely come around here, though. This mystery could be solved later, however. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Namely, how to get Dessarea Curtis away from Dallas. Not only would this be difficult, but making a move that ended in failure would result in a lot of pain. No, he would have to get her to come to him by her own accord. He would need a lot of things to make that happen.

One, a spy. Two, a scapegoat. Three, some information regarding a volatile subject of Dallas's past. And four, a controllable catastrophe.

Yes, that was the way to do it. With someone who could get him information, with somebody to blame it all on if this went south. With a factor that was controllable but totally untraceable. And lastly, with a subject as human as he was. With a person who just so happened to be Dallas's tether to his old New York life. His ex-girlfriend.

Dess had better count her days in which she would have solid ground beneath her feet, Shepard thought, satisfied he had come up with a good plan. Because soon her whole world would be tipped into a blender. This was the beginning of the apocalypse for the East-side Tulsa greasers.

The matter of getting rid of Lola was complicated as well. The last thing he wanted was a bitter ex ruining everything. Fortunately, he had much expertise in this field. It shouldn't cause him too much trouble. Not, at least, compared to the enormous-scale uprising he was planning to execute shortly after his separation from her. This whole thing would be a piece of cake.


	5. UNforseen in Postscript

Dess's POV

Three days had passed since the night at the fire pit. Today was May nineteenth, and it was getting hotter. When you stood outside and didn't move, just listened, you could feel the tension in the air that was nature waiting for the storm to break over us. You could feel it on the wind that it was coming, and every day on the news, there were people tracking a large cell coming in off the Gulf and hammering Texas. Not to mention that South Dakota, Nebraska, and Kansas were also being slammed. Two storms with us sandwiched in the middle. I swear, God gets a hell of a kick tormenting us.

I sat calmly out in the middle of the sparse lawn, almost snoozing in the afternoon heat. My body was totally relaxed; I couldn't have gotten up in time to save myself from attack if I wanted to. My eyes were closed tightly, and my breathing was slow and even. Anyone's ears could have picked up the footsteps behind me, but I had been learning from Soda, and now I knew how to listen like a real greaser.

"Hullo, Dallas," I said calmly. He was the only one home. Pony was at school; he was a sophomore, Soda, Steve, and Lolly, who had taken to flirting shamelessly with Soda, were at the DX, the gas station where Soda worked, and Darry was working, too. Two-Bit…well, who knows with Two-Bit. So that left…the only one that I couldn't lie to. He saw through me like wet tissue paper. I had been avoiding him since the night he kissed me, because I was afraid of what he would say.

"Hey. Whatcha doin?" Dallas sat down lightly on the ground next to me. He stared at me intently, with a mildly curious expression. His head was cocked slightly, and I had to laugh at his strong resemblance to a dog.

"Dallas, you know you look like a dog when you do that, correct?" He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Why no, thanks for the enlightenment. I have to speak with you, and I've been waiting all weekend for Darryl to go away." Wonderful. Darry had taken Friday off, and then he had a weekend. Today was Monday, and I had been dreading this date.

"I've got nowhere else to be, so go ahead."

"I'm done messing around, Dess. I know I was stupid before, with Valance and all, but I need to know if you're still interested in me." My voice caught in my throat. When I finally found it, my heart was racing.

"I don't know. How do I know you're going to…you know, stick around?" Heat flashed in Dallas's eyes, and I nearly recoiled for fear that he'd hit me. Instead, he spoke in a quiet, level voice.

"You can ask every girlfriend I've ever had. They'll tell you I don't cheat on my girlfriends. _They_ might cheat on _me_, but not the other way around."

"Sure, but you're not known for being gentle with them, are you?" I asked. The gang had been dropping me hints about this, and Pony finally told me about Dallas's…history. This scared me a bit, and I had to know what I was getting into.

"Do you honestly think I would screw _you_?" he asked, roasting me with his intense gaze. My eyes locked on his, and I knew I wouldn't get away with lying to him.

"Honestly? No. But then, I've thought wrong before and paid dearly for it. And you've given me no reason to trust you."

"I haven't, have I? So are you going to let naivety get the better of you?" He touched my cheek, ran his hand down my arm. I shivered and blinked. I couldn't make eye contact with him; his eyes were so welcoming, so safe…

"Stop trying to influence me; maybe I'll be able to give you a straight answer." He smiled, which was did not help my mental state at all.

"You know this old hood too well. Alright, I'll leave you alone a minute." He withdrew himself from me, moving away and averting his eyes. I thought a moment.

Did I trust him enough to accept his offer? It was too good to be true, and yet. Despite my words of mistrust, I couldn't help but trust him. He had something about him that made you want to trust him, made you want to be close to him and understand everything about him. I wanted to know everything about him, to be close to him all the time, wanted to kiss him again…

I shook my head violently, and saw him smile out of the corner of my eye. My mouth twisted into a snarl. He so irked me sometimes, but I didn't mind being annoyed with him. In fact, I enjoyed it. I sighed. There was no other choice. I was so wrapped up in him, I couldn't sleep at night and I wasn't hungry at meals. I just ate to avoid awkward questions. Writing and even drawing were problematic; no inspiration came into my head, just his face, his manner, his voice.

"Okay. On one condition." Dallas's eyes flickered to me, showing me he was listening. "_I_ get to be the girlfriend." We both burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh, felt good to laugh with him.

"Come here," he murmured, and I scooted closer to him. He rolled his eyes and grabbed me under the arms, repositioning me in his lap. I tensed. Although no one but Lolly knew this, I had never so much as held hands with a guy. Oh, believe me, I could have. Long, coffee brown hair, an even tan and an athletic form did that to a girl.

It's just that I was never interested in guys, to me; they were all immature and disgusting. Given, I spent all my time on the streets, so about every guy I met was a sleaze, but still, I had never had a boyfriend. But hey, with your true love was a good way to start, and I had a great feeling about Dallas Winston.



Dallas's POV

I had known as soon as I touched Dess that she wasn't experienced with guys. This surprised me, but not enough to dwell on it. I made a mental note to be extra careful with her.

"You don't go out with guys much, do you?" I asked, looking down at her.

"No. Honestly, I've been single all my life. One, Auntie didn't like it, and two, every guy I've ever known was a disgrace to humankind." Another surprise. Oh well, I could deal with it.

"How much do you trust me?" I asked, concerned slightly.

"More than Darry, Soda, and Lolly put together," Dess answered without hesitation. I frowned. It wasn't good to trust me so much…

"Good." I absentmindedly began running my hand through her hair, gently tugging out snarls. My hand flowed down her arm soon, and laced itself into hers, my thumb stroking the back of her hand rhythmically. Dess leaned into my chest, resting her head on my shoulder, her head turned into my neck. I could feel her heart beating.

Slowly and with measured gentleness, I lowered my head and touched my lips to her temple. She stirred a little, but didn't pull away. In fact, she moved slightly to look at meand returned the gesture on my cheek. Then, she held eye contact with me for a split second before returning the kiss from a few nights ago.

This kiss wasn't hurried like the first had been. It was sweet and almost painful. I felt something stirring in me, something I couldn't quite understand, couldn't quite get my mind around. It was old, tantalizingly familiar, yet so foreign. God, what was it? Did it even have a name? I didn't know, but this didn't surprise me.

After all the time I spent not caring, separating myself from the rest of the world, all my emotion was nearly gone. Joy, sadness, fear, anger, all gone. I couldn't tell you how it felt to have tears trickle down our face, nor could I describe the feeling a real smile gave you. I could read other people like open books, could recognize any emotion the face could portray, but had never felt them myself.

Whatever it was scared me, I didn't like not knowing what it was, but I pushed this to the back of my mind. I was enjoying this too much to want to stop. So I sent a curse to whatever heavenly body was in vicinity when I heard a car coming down the street. My lips pulled away gently, and Dess looked at me balefully.

"Sorry," I murmured, "But we have company." Dess followed my stare and winced when she saw the old pickup pull into the drive. Four very familiar people spilled out of the cab. Steve, Soda, Two-Bit and Lolly were home from the DX.

Lolly spied them first, and I saw something pass between them, then Lolly smiled and drew a finger to her lips. Her eyes flickered to Soda and Steve and back, and Dess nodded ever so slightly. Then Lolly ushered the other three into the house swiftly; they never got a chance to see the couple in the yard.

"Impressive. I still can't get them to listen to me sometimes, and you've got her doing it with just signals. Well trained," I commented.

"Isn't she? We'd better go inside before one of them comes out again," Dess replied. She stood in one movement, then reached a hand down to help me as I stood as well. I wiped my dusty hands on my jeans, which were already dirty with oil stains from working on cars with Steve and Soda, and followed Dess inside calmly.

"_Jacket…_" I thought, looking on the ground for Soda's jacket, which I found. "_Shoes…_" next to the jacket, with a pair of socks stuffed in them. "_Chocolate milk..._"

"Hey Dess, do we have any chocolate sauce left?"

"No, Soda, you used the last of it yesterday, remember?"

"_Okay, scratch that, no milk. Last but not least…Soda._" Right on cue, Sodapop Curtis, oldest Curtis after Darry, sauntered into the living room with a tall glass of milk in his hand and a stack of letters. Soda was about as tall as I

Myself, also with blonde hair, though his was much darker, more the color of wheat than white, and he had sparkling green eyes where I had blue ones, but the similarities ended with height and hair color.

Soda had soft, easy features and a warm voice and stance. He could be laughing one minute and raging the next. He was a best buddy to most of the gang, and most of the East side, come to think of it. I liked Soda okay; he and Two-Bit made sure there was never a dull moment, and Soda was no pansy.

As I stole a look at Dess, I found that she was looking intensely at Lolly again; it almost looked as though they were having a telepathic conversation, and I could guess the subject. Life was about to get very interesting at the Curtis household.



Dess's POV

I stared intently at Lolly, who watched me back. I was trying to get the point across that I needed to talk to her about what I should do about the large complication that was draped unceremoniously on my couch. But my brainwaves were interrupted by Soda, who spat milk all over the bills and other assorted postal items lying on the coffee table.

"What is it?" Lolly asked, looking away from me to Soda.

"I'll tell you what, listen to this," Soda replied, holding up a letter that I could see was addressed to him. "_Dear Soda, hope you've been well. It's been a while since I've seen you or the gang, and I just want to tell you that I'm sorry. I heard about what happened to your little brother and Johnny Cade, and I felt awful. I want you to know that I've changed my mind about your offer, but I'll understand if you've found somebody new. Hoping I'm still yours, Sandy Marshall._

_P.S, I was going to leave it as a surprise, but I can't! I'm coming back to Tulsa in a week to see you guys, my parents said I could for my nineteenth!_" As Soda finished the letter, we all sat with our mouths slightly open in shock. Well, all of us but Lolly, who didn't know who Sandy Marshall was. I'm betting you all do, though.

"Soda, who's Sandy?" Lolly asked.

"She was my girlfriend before…all that," Soda said carefully. "And…I asked her to marry me, but she said no and moved to Florida. I fell out of love with her, then you came along-" at this he turned beet red. "I mean, that is to say, then you and Dess came home. Now, I don't know, we'll have to see how things pan out…?" he finished lamely. Glances went around, and the rest of us agreed to leave the two alone. We all stood and made excuses of having somewhere to be, and exited, leaving Soda and Lolly alone.

Dallas followed me up to my room, and I searched my mind frantically for any traces of things lying out that I didn't want him to see. I came up with nothing, so when I pushed open the door, I let him go first. His eyes scanned my room as though he had never seen it before.

I had redone the room as soon as I got home and wasted several of the past days finishing it. It was now a redish burgundy, more red than purple, with a queen size bed covered in a tan blanket. In the corner was a large bowl chair about big enough to let me sleep in it. This was also tan.

A cherry wood bookcase stood along one wall, filled with some of my favorites. The opposite wall was all glass, or rather mirrors, clear- and rose-colored in a checkerboard fashion. These had been here when I was a baby, and I liked them even now.

"Much different," Dallas said, looking around the room carefully.

"You like?" I asked, laying down on the bed and reaching for a green spiral notebook and pencil on my nightstand.

"I do. The color is so…you." I nodded and flipped open the notebook, riffling through it to find a page that didn't have a drawing or sketch on it. When I found one, I began, with even, neat strokes, to hack out a sleeping tiger. I spent a large amount of time on the head, getting it just right. Dallas watched me all the while. After a few moments, he sat down lightly on the bed, then stretched out to lie beside me.

I moved on to the tiger's powerful, muscled shoulders and strong, thick front legs. As I delicately curled an outstretched paw, Dallas spoke.

"You're good."

"Why thank you. I'd be better if I had a mechanical pencil, but this'll have to do." Next, my pencil flowed out of the tiger's haunches, curving slightly once to signify the back legs muscles, and snaking into a curve to form the tiger's tail. Then I went back to the front paws and began his stomach line. His back paw was tucked neatly into his stomach, and the far back paw poked out slightly, with plump toes and unsheathed claws, and his tail lay over his lower back.

I considered the piece a moment, then pointed wordlessly at an eraser lying on the table. Dallas grabbed it and handed it to me. I erased the tiger's right eye, which had been closed like its counterpart, and opened it slightly. It looked directly at me, as though questioning my presence with polite curiosity. I added light to the eye in the form of an oval of reflected light near its corner. Once again, I moved the notebook back so as to examine it. Happy with it for now, I signed in the bottom right corner in miniscule script: ABrokenHowling Prod.

"A broken howling," Dallas read as I put down my pencil. "What does that mean?"

"It's the pseudonym I use on just about everything I do," I replied. "It's from an old story I did once, about a lone wolf looking for a pack. All the others called it 'The Broken Howler,' because it was so… broken. So I kept the name and adapted it." As I finished the little tale, I glanced over at Dallas, to see he was staring at me again, with the same intensity as before, as though he was trying to figure me out.

"Just when I think I've got you pegged, you pull something like this out of your sleeve that makes me see you in a whole different way," he muttered with a frown. I had to crack a grin at that. Tough old Dallas was all bent up about not being able to peg _me._


	6. Dallas's Mistake

Dess's POV

I woke up in the middle of the night. I was all sweaty and hot, and the dream I had just had danced on the edge of my consciousness, taunting me. Try as I might, I couldn't remember what it had been about, but I knew that in those first few seconds of being awake, I had fought like mad to keep from screaming. The dream had been bad. Very, _very_ bad. I swung my legs out of bed and began pacing my room.

My mind refused to shut down. It was racing in a million different directions. I jumped whenever the ice maker downstairs in the kitchen dumped itself, or when the old house creaked. Every sound was a Soc -or worse- coming to get me. I was breathing heavily; my heart was pounding insanely in my chest. I knew I wouldn't get back to sleep tonight. I was too skittish to do anything.

Whatever that dream had been about, I wasn't sure I wanted to remember it if it messed me up this badly. I had to fight with myself just to go downstairs and get a glass of water. My mind kept telling me that whatever _it_ was, _it_ was waiting just outside my door, ready to kill me. It was a nine-year-old's fear, I chided myself. You're in a house full of tough ass greasers who would just as soon kill an intruder as ask what it was doing. Still, it took tremendous brainpower to make me open my door.

I crept down the stairs silently, and on light feet I crossed the living room to the kitchen. Turning on the light would have been a waste of time and electricity. My eyes had always been eerily efficient in low light; the silver moonbeams filtering in from the window above the sink were enough. I grabbed a glass from one of the cupboards and filled it with water from the tap. When the glass was about half full, I shut off the flow of water and raised a shaking hand to my mouth, draining the glass in one gulp. My hand steadied a bit, and my heart rate was smoother. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

"_Jeezum,_" I thought. "_God forbid I ever have one of _those_ again._" My eyes wandered, landing unconsciously at the open doorway that led into the living room. I could see Steve's outline, spread-eagled on the couch, Lolly, curled up unnervingly like a cat on the floor, Two-Bit next to her, and lastly, Dallas, stretched out and relaxed in Darry's recliner. I watched him peacefully for a moment, noting how my breath had slowed completely and that I was quite calm, actually sleepy. My eyes were almost closed when the glass slipped from my grasp.

"_Shit!_" I exclaimed, diving for it. I caught it, but not before its lip cracked against the ground and broke off with a distinctly loud tinkling. "Double shit," I muttered as I watched the crescent-shaped cut the glass had left on the back of my hand turn red with blood and start to trickle to the floor. I stood slowly, tilting my hand so the blood ran into the cup instead of onto the tile floor.

Setting the glass in the sink, I snatched a roll of gauze that was lying conveniently on the counter and wrapped my hand tightly. Then I pulled a length of paper towel from the roll and cleaned up the little pool of blood on the floor. Throwing it in the trash on my way out, I started across the living room. Imagine my shock when…

"Hey Dess. Can't sleep, or what?" For the third time, I cussed aloud.

"Shit! What the..." I whirled, even though, at that very moment, I my mind was identifying the voice. Dallas, still reclined, was staring at me with amusement splashed across his handsome face. This, I noticed, with a bit of shock, was a real smile. It reached his eyes and terminated some of the coldness I seemed to be immune against. Somehow, it suited him, made him that much more handsome.

"Can't sleep?" he repeated. I shook my head.

"I had one bloody hell of a nightmare, apparently."

"Apparently?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

'Well, you see, I can't remember what it was about, but it shook me up more than if I'd just been jumped," I explained, picking my way across the room to plant myself on the arm of the recliner.

"Yes, I do see. So was this dream, like, crazy-freaky scary, or almost getting killed scary?'

"Almost getting killed scary. Or worse. I thought every noise was something in the house. I know, it's a stupid little kid thing."

"Naw, it ain't. You ever heard about the dreams Ponyboy has? 'Parently, they're so bad, he wakes up screamin." I didn't bother to tell him that he was almost awoken by my scream rather than my dropping a glass. There was a short silence. "Jeez, did it shake you up that bad?" he asked concernedly, rubbing his hands up and down my back in a rough but welcome motion.

"I guess," I sighed, rubbing my eyes. Whatever peace I had drawn from watching Dallas sleep was gone, replaced by the high-strungedness of a few moments ago.

"You're not gonna be able to sleep, are you?" he asked knowingly. I shook my head. "Okay, come on, then," he said, standing up and extending a hand down to me.

"What?"

"Come on, I'll lay with you for a while. Just until you fall asleep," he added hurriedly, catching a glimpse of my surprised face. I hesitated a moment. "I won't do anything," he assured me exasperatedly, beckoning me with his outstretched hand. I took it and let him lead me upstairs to my room.

Once there, though I wasn't sure about this, or what would happen if he fell asleep too and Darry found him, I lay down beside him and found almost immediately that I would have no trouble sleeping. He lay on his side and pulled me close to him, wrapping his arms around me.

"Better?" he asked quietly, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I turned to face him and found that he was, indeed, smiling. A vague thought formed in my mind: he was so beautiful when he smiled. Why didn't he do it more often? I blinked to clear my mind.

"Much better, actually."

"I thought so."

"Except for one thing. What if Darry comes to wake me up and you're here?" His face shadowed with worry for a moment, then it was gone.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. 'Gnight," he whispered, brushing his lips across my cheek.

"Night," I replied, then shifted and immediately fell asleep.



Dallas's POV

I stayed awake for a long time, watching Dess sleep. I had found that when most people slept, they looked younger and usually more innocent, but she was just beautiful. I knew I had promised I would only be there until she fell asleep, but I couldn't bear leaving so soon. I was sleepy, yes, but I'd rather be tired tomorrow than not see her. I felt , myself weakening every time she touched me, could feel the carefully constructed walls of imperviousness beginning to shake.

I had spent a long time building those walls, so nothing could touch me and none of my feelings could cloud my number one instinct: stay alive, stay safe. Much to the disbelief of the local authorities, I did have rules. Very strict ones that I never wavered from. It was just that my rules didn't mesh well with the cop's. Amongst the top ones were no drugs, no pushing the cannon in the park into the lake _more_ than three times a year, and no _directly_ harming _innocent_ people. I got away with beating up Socs because I figured if they had the gall to jump somebody or show up at a rumble, they were guilty as charged.

Whenever I had a choice to make, it was easily made by evaluating which choice would keep me alive and without pain. This was done with no emotion, no consideration of other people's loss. That would only get in the way, and the next the thing I knew, I would be pushing up daisies. I was cold as ice, all the way through. But watching Dess that night, I found myself beginning to feel something. It was the same something as before, and it was still unidentifiable, but there were some things.

I felt a fierce need to keep her safe from any and all harm, emotional or physical. It was now my duty to keep her safe and happy, to stop anything from harming her. This was new for me. Always before, I hadn't given a damn about other people being safe. I just hadn't.

No, I corrected myself, there was one time. Hadn't I always been angry when I saw a new bruise glaring up at me from the dark skin of a certain boy? Hadn't I, on more than one occasion, given said boy's old man a taste of his own medicine? And hadn't I been torn to pieces when that same boy died because of my foolishness? Go to Windrixville, Johnny, run away from the self-defense law that would have let you off! Go somewhere where I can't keep an eye on you! Get yourself killed!

I knew that letting someone in that far was dangerous. I knew what would happen, didn't I? I would end up under another streetlight, but maybe this time, I wouldn't get a second chance to not screw things up. Maybe I would just die. But, on the other hand, there was something about Dessarea Curtis. Whenever I looked at her, I felt my guilt from screwing Johnny's life up for him leave, or at least lessen a bit. I felt that, maybe, if I let her love me, I would be somehow fixed. Whole again. That would be so good.

Maybe _this_, this right here, was why I had been allowed to live. Maybe this was why the second bullet had missed my heart by a mere quarter of an inch. Maybe I was supposed to be there for her to lean back against. My new purpose was to fall in love with Dessarea Curtis and become unbroken. Maybe. Smiling because I had just gotten one step ahead of whatever gods had planned this little game with my life, I felt myself drifting into sleep.

And, for all his cleverness, he didn't know what was happening to him. He didn't know that, bit by bit, he was thawing. Soon, something Dess possessed would make him unfrozen. He didn't know, and he wouldn't until the very day the last bit of him was alive again. But Dess was slowly bringing color and feeling back to him, teaching him what it felt like. For the first time in his memory, Dallas would be both whole and free.



Tim's POV/2nd

Tim Shepard was up again. This time it wasn't plotting that had him pacing, but business. He was out in a cold supermarket parking lot, his breath creating swirling patterns as he waited. Finally, a tuff-looking Mustang sped into the lot, screeching like a bat out of hell. It came speeding toward him, but Shepard made no move to get out of the way, not even when it almost sideswiped him. Steve Randall was an excellent driver.

Steve nodded his greetings to Shepard's entourage and stepped up to greet the ganglord.

"Shepard."

"Randall. I hear you've got a proposition for me?"

"I do. It concerns a certain kitten you seem to have taken an interest in," Steve replied, and he could tell from the way Shepard's head perked up that he knew exactly which kitten he was speaking of. But to his surprise, he was suddenly pushed back against his own car.

"How did you know that?" Shepard snarled.

"Lucky guess," Steve replied coolly, pushing Shepard back slightly.

"Continue," Shepard ordered him.

"I know exactly how to get Dallas out of the way." Shepard raised an eyebrow.

"Do you, now?"

"Would I lie to you?"

"I suppose not."

"All you have to do is get Darryl to leave. Then Dallas'll fall apart like wet tissue paper."

"And you know this how?" Steve smirked evilly, and his dark eyes gleamed.

"Have you ever heard about how those two met?" Shepard shook his head. "It went down like this. Dallas's best friend had something happen to him, I dunno what, but he ended up dying. Well, his mom and dad used to take turns beatin' the hell out of him, so that kid was pretty much his salvation. Oh, he was about eight when this happened. So he started getting into more and more trouble, but he was already hard from gettin' beat up so much, so jail didn't scare him. And then, right after he got let out from about…I dunno, two weeks or somethin', his mom died. The beatings from his dad got worse, until he died, too, alcohol poisoning, I think. So his life was about as shitty as it gets.

"And then Darryl showed up. Took Dallas to his momma when Darry was eleven and Dallas was nine. Mrs. Curtis was always a good lady, she took him in and life got better for Dallas. Until Mrs. Curtis died. Darry was only sixteen, and he sent his little sister to go live with their aunt, but the point is, Darry was Dallas's safe passage. He'll get testy if we take Darryl out of the picture, guaranteed. Put a little more strain on them two, offer Dallas a way out, he'll take it faster than you can give it to him."

"You know this'll work?"

"Tell me, Shepard, what did Dallas do to you when you beat up that kid a while ago?"

"Beat the tar out of me, that's what."

"D'you know _why_? Because he hates seeing kids goin' through what he did. Even a little bit like what he had as a kid, he hates it. Besides, Dallas Winston is a hair trigger. His early years were so messed over, any sign of is life goin' back to that and he's gone like a freight train."

"Again, you _know_ this will work?"

"Can you guess why he left New York after only three years there? Because his one of his gang died. Just one, but it reminded him of his friend. And he came back here. But if you're not fast about this, they'll get too close. Women are strange things, Shep, they can change a guy for good, and if you don't do something fast, Dess'll have Dallas melted and rescued from that little hellhole he's trapped in. Just warning you. So, am I in?'

"We'll have to see how this goes, but right now you're my new spy. You're obviously good at it." Steve turned to leave, but Shepard snagged his jacket sleeve. "Oh, and if this goes south, I'll tell Darryl and Dallas about your connection, and then we can split killing you three ways. Savvy?" Steve gulped.

"Yep."

"Good."



Darry/2nd

Darryl arose early the morning of May twentieth. He almost went to get Pony out of bed, but then he remembered that three days ago had been his last day of school. He was on summer break. Soda could wake up by his alarm, but Pony was too heavy a sleeper to be woken by it. Instead of going into the room the two shared, he shuffled into the hallway and turned the opposite direction, towards Dess's room and the stairs. Halfway to the stairs, he stopped dead.

Dallas was sleeping in Dess's room. Even worse, he was lying _with her_. Oh, this would get Dess such a beating. She didn't know all the things Dallas had done, how many girlfriends had trusted him too much… But wait. Wait a minute. He looked a little more carefully at the two; Dess curled up comfortably against the hood's side, Dallas contentedly lying next to her, his face buried in her hair. Both looked happy and, overall, Dess looked safe. For now. He would leave it until they both woke up.

It would turn out that the two wouldn't awaken until the rest of the gang had, and Soda would talk Darry out of chewing the both of them until they resembled hamburger, so little damage was actually done that day. Still, by some miracle, only three people knew about this astounding relationship. Lolly, Soda, and Darry. Oh yeah, Darry knew. And he didn't like it at all. Dallas could steal more from Dess than her good sense, that was for damn sure. But for now, he would leave them alone. For now.


	7. Rumble Rising

Lolly's POV

I was pleased with myself. Walking home from the DX, I was terribly pleased. Me and Sodapop were officially going out now; I had gotten permission from Two-Bit and everything. So it barely registered in my mind how dangerous it was to be walking alone. Especially without a switchblade. Eight blocks away was the house. Eight blocks from Dallas and Dess, the only ones ever home about now. Not as if I cared. I was too happy to worry about anything.

Soda and I had been hanging around together a lot lately, and I'd started to like him. I'd latched onto him, and now he'd made me very happy by asking me to go out with him, even though it wasn't likely we'd ever actually _go out_. But I was his girlfriend now, and I was happy about that.

A black Malibu began following me. I didn't notice it at first; it stayed well back from me. The engine was quiet, and so were the people inside. Four of them exited the car without so much as a whisper of sound. All dressed in jeans and tee-shirts, they were obviously greasers. But they were a new kind, a gang that me and Dess hadn't encountered before.

I noticed them now. Four Hispanic greasers.

"_Do we know any Hispanic gangs?_" I asked myself. No, we didn't. All of the Curtis gang was Caucasian, so was the Brumly Unit, Tim Shepard's gang. The Tiber Street Tigers weren't, or as far as I knew they weren't. There was no one else. Maybe these were rogues. The hair on the back of my neck prickled uncomfortably. Rogues were bad news.

I started looking for one of the gang, as though by some miracle they would be near. There was no one. Okay, now I was worried. A piece of glass or wood. A bottle, preferably, but a two-by-four would do. There was a broken Pepsi bottle laying in the gutter about a yard away. The stalkers were closer now, and the Malibu had driven off. I sped up almost imperceptibly and bent down to snag the bottle. I dropped and curled into a ball, rolling forward and springing up.

The bottle was ready in my hand in a loose but firm hold. I instinctually held it out away from me, and the jagged edges of cut glass glimmered wickedly in the summer sun. The little gang eyed the bottle apprehensively. Then they all drew blades.

"Ho-leee _shit_," I murmured, shifting my grip on the bottle in my hand.

"We ain't gonna hurt 'cha," one of them said in a low voice. "As long as you cooperate. You got a guy?"

"What's it to you?" I snarled.

"Don' mean nothin to me. Means somethin to you, though." Rage blazed inside me, making me lose myself for a moment. This scum-sucker was going to get it. In that instant of vulnerability, the foursome pounced. One got behind me while the other three grabbed my arms and pushed me against a wall. I jerked my arm to the right powerfully and heard a distinguished crack. I winced, but used the momentum this had gained me to slam one right in the temple. He went down like a sack of dirt.

Now that they were one short, the one that had previously been holding my neck up, exposing my throat, had to cover the hand that had broken free. This arm's shoulder was throbbing, and I was fairly sure I had disconnected it. The leader, the one who had been behind me and dragged me back, now took the spot the other guy had left. My left wrist was being squeezed. I felt my nerves constrict and the bottle slip out of my hand, smashing into a million pieces on the concrete of the sidewalk. The leader's blade pushed against my jugular. It was on its flat side, but if I moved my head much, it would cut skin.

The leader was focused on my face, probably trying to decide whether to kill me or kidnap me for some one-sided fun. Good thing, too, because when I brought my knee up for all I was worth, the two henchmen holding my hands didn't have time to warn the head honcho. He fell to his knees, but his blade slid across my neck, over slightly from the jugular vein. I felt hot, sticky blood run down my neck. The two rogues holding my hands stepped away, but the leader shouted something in Spanish and they looked at each other before going back at me, fists at the ready.

"_Even greasers don't hit girls_," I thought. "_They can't be greasers._" It was of no comfort, but it did help me to not feel guilty about what I was about to do. I uppercut one right in the jaw, and was dealt a heavy backhand in return. They had little chance to do anything else, however, because I then bent down, snatched a long, thin shard of glass, and, ignoring the sharp bite of it on my hand, slashed the jeans of one, right above his shoe, only too late remembering that that was a tendon. I released a little of my pressure, so the cut was shallow, but he would still have trouble walking later.

I raised my arms above my head, just in time to block a rain of punches from hammering me. Each one would bruise. With that, I stood and, dropping the piece of glass, slapped my assailant across the face hard enough to send him reeling. Then I heard footfall and shouting-the gang, or whoever was available, coming to my aid.

"It's a little late now," I muttered, brushing off my hands. Gingerly, I touched the side of my face that had been backhanded and winced. He must have been wearing a ring, because there was a thin, crescent-shaped cut right in the middle of my left cheek. "Shit…" as soon as the swearword came out of my mouth, I was surprised. Dess had been getting into the habit of swearing when Darry wasn't around, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she had gotten it from Dallas. But I, Lolly, had never sworn before. Even Dess had, in times of great danger or pain, back home, but not me.

My thoughts were broken into by none other than Dess, accompanied by Dallas, Two-Bit, Steve, and, to my embarrassment, Soda.

"Ya see? I…told you guys she was…in trouble! Now will you…listen to me once in a while?" Dess wheezed painfully between pants.

"Shut the…eff up already," Steve replied, frowning.

"How did you know she was getting jumped?" Dallas asked Dess; miraculously he and Soda were breathing fine.

"I had this feeling. Don't look at me like that; we've had it since we were six. I always know when she's stressed or in trouble. Likewise her with me. Are you okay, Lolly?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I thought for a minute that they would just leave, until the leader yelled something in Spanish." Dallas's head jerked up.

"Spanish? What did he say?"

"I dunno, it sounded like 'Cone siga la pey quenya perra nose tros trah tara de Ella coo ando con sequi mos ah me lugar.'" Dallas looked shocked.

"_Consiga la pequeña perra; nosotros tratara de ella cuando conseguimos a mi lugar_. It means…hang on… 'Get the little bitch; we'll deal with her at my place.'" Everyone looked on him with mixed degrees of shock.

"Okay, that was a rough translation, sue me," he said defensively.

"Dallas, I didn't know you spoke Spanish," Dess murmured, looking slightly confused.

"I have to; I do most of the deals with the River Kings for our gang. Well, the call themselves _El Reyes de Rio_," he added to their still shocked looks.

"There are Hispanic gangs in Tulsa?" I asked, slightly surprised.

"Hell yeah, there are two. You won't see much of the _Panteras_, they mostly keep to themselves. Well one thing's for sure, we're gonna have to go kick some Kingly ass. Who's commin' with me?" Dallas asked, looking around.

"I will," Two-Bit and Soda said in unison. Dallas looked surprised for the first time in minutes, then he shrugged it off.

"Let's go, if we can catch them before they get to their territory it'll be easier for us." The three stood, and, without another word, departed, loping with an easy, feline grace down the street in the direction that the Malibu had sped off in. I fixed Dess with a look. She shrugged.

"You know how they are." I nodded.

"Unpredictable," we chorused, and we, sisters forever, shared an identical smile.



Dess's POV

After we got home, Steve, who had accompanied us, muttered something about having somewhere to be, and disappeared. I grabbed a protesting Lolly and dragged her into the bathroom, forcing her to clean out the wounds she had gotten. A large, ugly-looking bruise was forming on her cheek, and it didn't look too pleasant to have.

Once she was done, we sat down on the couch, and, because there was nothing on T.V, lapsed into a very interesting conversation.

"So. Chances of them finding the guys who did this?" Lolly asked. I pondered for a moment.

"Mmmm…good, I'd say. If Dallas really knows where their territory is, he can find them, most likely. You'd better hope they don't, though."

"Why's that?"

"Because. Don't you think this is exactly the kind of thing that would start a rumble? I can't fight all that well, and it seems like you can't either." Lolly seemed to consider protesting, but decided that it was, after all, the truth.

"Yeah, I guess this could spark a rumble easily. It'll be something to be in one, though. Soda's told me stories you wouldn't believe. Oh yeah, I nearly forgot to tell you. Soda and I are going out now!" I smiled, but it must have looked a little forced.

"Good for you two."

"You want to be with Dallas, don't you?" Lolly asked, reading me like an open book. "I mean, not in secret. Darry'll never let that happen."

"I know! I just wish I knew why." Lolly shrugged.

"Nobody knows."

"So, what do you think of it here?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Don't you think it's a little late to be asking me this?"

"Yeah, I guess. Hell, it's only been nine days. Barely a week. Are you gonna answer my question?"

"I think it's great. And it suits us much better then Kearney did. There it was just too stuffy. Here…we can fly." I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant.

"You know, back there was insane. I never really noticed how weird it was, but if I think if I went back, I would go mad."

"Ummm…Dess, I'm not sure I know how to break it to you…but you're _already_ disturbingly insane."

"Oh…good. Hey, was I raised by wolves?"

"S'cuse me?"

"Was I raised by wolves? A couple of Soc girls said I was when I ran past them with Dallas coming to rescue you."

"Were you wearing pants?"

"Yes! What else would I wear?"

"That explains it. You know, _normal_ ladies wear dresses, so they told you that you were uncivilized. Although…in your case, it would explain some things…"

"Like, for example?"

"Uh…that." Lolly pointed a finger at the limping Dallas that had just dragged himself through the door. I leapt up and, in my panic, grabbed his hand and brushed my lips across his cheek.

"Dallas, what the _hell_ happened to you?!"

"There were more Rivers than we expected. We're all fine…but there's gonna be a rumble. Big one."

"Come with me. Lolly, you take care of your brother and betrothed." I gestured to the other two, who were staring at Dallas and I in shock. It dawned on me what they had just seen me do…and what Dallas had accepted. I shook it off and dragged Dallas upstairs, to my room, where I pushed him onto the bed.

"S'nothin, Dess. I've had worse."

"Have you?" I asked, looking pointedly at his torn and bloody jeans leg.

"That was a knife. Just one. I've faced five." I stalked over to him from where I'd been pawing through my dresser for a roll of gauze and tilted his chin upward.

"Not with me as you're girlfriend, you haven't," I murmured, my eyes dark with concern. "You don't know how much you scared me when you walked in like this." His face was an inch from mine, and he smiled, showing canines on one side.

"You're my girlfriend now?" And then, with a gleam in his eye, his arms came up and turned me around, landing me square in his lap crosswise. His arms were iron bars as I tried to right myself.

"Dallas, you effing-" I whispered, but I didn't finish.

"Me effing what? What am I effing?" he asked just as softly.

"Geroff me before I feed you to the dragon." I had been paying attention to the clock.

"What dragon?" Dallas asked, looking confused. The door slammed downstairs.

"That dragon."

"Shiiiiit!" he dumped me off his lap and threw me the gauze, for Darry had just walked in the house. I proceeded to wrap a set of bleeding knuckles, the wound on his leg, which wasn't so bad, and, just as Darry walked in my room, Dallas pulled off his jacket to reveal a set of claw like rakings across his upper arm.

"D'you get in a fight again, Dallas?"

"Nope. Rivers jumped Lolly, so me Two-Bit and Soda went to give them a piece of our mind. Now we're in a rumble. We need to talk to Tim." Darry raised his eyebrows.

"And the bathroom couldn't have sufficed for cleaning up?"

"Lolly was using the tape in the bathroom, so we came up here. I keep gauze in this room, in case I need it," I replied coolly. The static in the room crackled until Darry left.

"Where'd you get these?" I sighed.

"Bottle." He leaned back on his hands, crossing his legs and looking at me with mock expectancy. I rolled my eyes and wrapped the wounds.

"Tight enough?"

"Perfect. Hey. Look at me." My eyes flickered to his. "You don't like the fighting, do you?" his tone was serious, and any amusement he might have been showing at Darry and I was gone.

"No. I hate being afraid, and I'm afraid for you. I don't want-" I broke off a moment. "I don't want you to…die," I choked out, fear lacing my voice. Dallas frowned and, again, lifted me from where I sat on the ground beside the bed into his lap.

This time he leaned against the wall so I could sort of lay across him and still be sitting up. He gently laced his arms across my chest, and I could feel it every time he drew a breath. He smelled like something familiar, but I couldn't place what. It was sweet and sharp, mellow and bold at the same time, but it was a good smell. I liked it.

"I won't die. I'm too tough to die in a rumble," he replied, his breath warm along the back of my neck.

"You don't know that."

"I can't lie to you, Dess. When do you want to tell Darryl about this?"

"I don't know. Will you help me when it comes time to?"

"I'll be right behind you. We'll convince him together. We can prove that we deserve to be together."

"He doesn't trust you with me."

"We'll make him trust me." And we fell into silence.

"Maybe he'll surprise us all. He's like that."



Dallas's POV

I flipped the collar of my leather jacket and looked at the smudgy reflection in the window for the affect. The rest of the gang was getting ready for the rumble around me. It was two days after the little incident with Lolly and the River gang, and the rumble would be huge.

We had Tim's gang in with us, ready to rock and roll, but the River Kings were about the size of his gang, plus they were enlisting the _Panteras_, who were, in themselves, twice the size of us. We would have a hard fight on our hands. If I had had a say, I would have had the girls stay home. The farther Dess was from a fight, the better for me. Dess would have a blond, ass-kickin' guardian angel tonight, that was for sure.

There she was, behind me, talking in a low voice to Lolly. She tapped out a wild tattoo against her hip with my switchblade, which I had given to her under the instruction that she was to use it if one of the enemies started playing dirty. I'd rather get worked over by Darry for weapons than have my girl worked over by some guy she didn't even know.

Now we were heading out the door, and she found me almost immediately.

"Hey Dally."

"When'd you start calling me Dally?"

"I felt like it. Do you mind?'

"Naw." In all honesty, I reveled in the sound of my nickname coming from her lips and relished the fact that she felt close enough to me to use it. "You're too beautiful for me, damn it. You'll have me suicidal if you say goodbye."

"Guess I better not break up with you, then, huh?" she relied, picking up my lead and joshing back to keep her mind of the war.

"No, I'd advise against that." I slipped my hand into hers, and we walked close enough that our arms twined together, hot on tepid. She nudged herself closer to me, and I had to beat myself mentally to keep from stopping in the middle of the street, grabbing her, and kissing her like she'd never been kissed before.

"You're really warm, you know that?" she murmured, pressing even closer and nuzzling my shoulder. God, she was a handful.

"I run hot naturally. My normal temp is one-oh-five," I replied in a strained voice. I had to get some space between the two of us before I lost control. I barred my enjoyment in her touch, the feel of her skin on mine, how much I wanted it to continue. I looked at her, and was surprised to see a devilish smile playing across her lips-at least, the amount of lips I could see around the leather of my own jacket-she still had her face in my shoulder.

"Difficult yet?" she asked, muffled slightly by the material she was speaking through.

"Incredibly," I replied, still straining.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"_Should_ I stop?'

"Yes." Dess withdrew from me, back to her original position. She looked at me playfully.

"I wouldn't have minded too much if you hadn't been so controlled."

"Yeah, but Darry would have." She frowned.

"I know."

"Hey, look alive, everybody!" Soda's voice made us both jump, and when I looked up, I felt as though someone had poured ice water through my veins. At least thirty people were facing me and my little gang-the opposition. Facing away from us were about fifteen people-Shepard's gang. Shep himself turned to see us arrive, with deep pity in his eyes. He shook hands with Darry, and ordered his gang to make a gap wide enough for us to come through.

Everything was still. We all waited to see who would start this. Finally, Soda stepped forward, he shoulders squared, and his head held defiantly. Everyone knew of Soda's vendetta. Everyone knew that this was his fight.

"Come and have a go…if you feel lucky."


	8. Deception

**You're thinking, dang, that was fast. Yup. I'm just good like that. ;)**

Lolly's POV

The fight exploded around us as soon as Soda- my Soda, I thought with wild, fierce pride-stepped out of our ranks. I knew I was in no condition to fight-none at all. Unbeknownst to everyone else, I felt woozy, and I pretty much knew I had a concussion, however serious it turned out to be. But I wanted blood.

The first attacker I had was thrown off by the fact that I was a girl. Enough that he didn't see the sucker punch flying at him, not even milliseconds before it crashed into his temple and he dropped like a rock. He was still alive, but he would have a headache later. As if I cared.

I moved on, fighting with my own anger. No one could touch me, or so it seemed. No matter how hard someone hit me, I returned it tenfold and multiple times. I felt no pain. Yet, finally someone got a lucky shot to my jaw. He was my fifth opponent in twice as many minutes, and I was getting tired. I heard the crack, but I just moved the jaw around as though rolling something around inside until it came back into place.

Then I began landing hard jabs to his chest, arms, and face. As we danced through the crowd, I caught a glimmer of Soda's blond hair-or was it Dallas? I thought I heard Two-Bit's triumphant laugh ring out over the shouts and cussing, but I wasn't sure. My opponent knelt on the ground and crossed his arms over his head. I backed off. He was surrendering. I wouldn't hurt him.

Not turning my back on him, I stalked away, looking for another opponent-and then I saw. Ponyboy was being ganged up on by at least three, two of which were a foot taller than him. Tim Shepard was near him, but he was juggling three himself, and Two-Bit stood behind him, attacking ruthlessly another greaser about the same height as him but obviously with much more experience. He had a long gash across the side of his face. Someone had broken the no-weapons rule. I fell upon one of the people attacking Pony, intentionally taking the biggest one.

He was already tired from fighting Pony, but so was I, from dueling others. He smiled a nasty smile and hit me between the eyes. I stumbled, and went down, coughing and choking. I couldn't breathe, and I knew why. My body was reacting from the wound I had just gotten, paired with my concussion. I saw the look on the guy's face-he knew something was terribly wrong. With a panicked glance around him, he bolted away. The next thing I knew, Dess was kneeling beside me, Dallas and Two-Bit fighting off those trying to converge on her and them. Then everything was black.



Soda/2nd

Soda felt terrible. It was ten minutes after Lolly had collapsed, ten minutes after they won the rumble with few casualties. It felt like a lifetime. He and the rest of the gang sat anxiously in the waiting room of the E.R, waiting to see if Lolly would be okay. Dess was crying soundlessly into Dallas's shoulder, and he held her comfortingly, whispering something that was no doubt a reassurance in her ear.

Darry looked upon them with something like shock, amazed that Dallas would be so comforting in public. Maybe, Soda thought hopefully, he was rethinking what he had previously thought about Dallas. Maybe he would allow the relationship that had been going on secretly. Soda would be happy for them.

But now, he reminded himself, he had his own problems. He should have _seen_ that Lolly was messed up. It was his fault for letting her fight. Guilt rose in him like a wave, and he felt horrible. He buried his head in his hands, unable to hold back his own disgust in himself.

He _loved_ Lolly. He had always been her most faithful guy friend, to the point that he was the best brother she had ever had. She told him that herself. And as she got older, and Dess replaced him, he was still an outcropping in her life-one of the things that kept her alive, kept her fighting against the senseless prejudice that was "greaser." She trusted him. And look where it got her. He had promised her that he would always keep her safe, and that, in the rumble, he would stand by her and fight alongside her if she needed.

But a fighter had slipped between them. He swiftly dealt with him, but when he was done, Lolly was gone. He didn't find her in time. When he finally did, Dess was kneeling beside her, Lolly's head in her lap, with Dallas and Two-Bit fighting like heroes to keep the space clear, to protect the two girls that meant the world to them, in different ways.

Later, when he would ask Dallas why he had done it, why he had abandoned fighting the enemy to protect the two, Dallas would look at him steadily and reply, "Because I would follow Dess into hell if I had to. I would do whatever she asked of me, and that night, it was to protect Lolly. Plus, I could never go on fighting knowing Lolly was down."

Soda looked up when a hand tapped his shoulder. He looked up to see Darry standing over him, worry shadowing his face.

"Are you okay, little buddy? It wasn't your fault." Soda nodded, unable to speak. Darry didn't leave, and soon, Pony stood to lay a hand on Soda's other shoulder. The whole gang stood to comfort him. They all knew what Lolly meant to him. Even Dess, puffy-eyed with her face wet and shining with tear tracks, knelt beside him and put a gentle hand on his knee. The silent vigil was broken by a doctor.

"Excuse me, which of you is-" he consulted his notes. "Keith Matthews?"

"I am," Two-Bit answered, moving away from the group.

"And you're Miss Matthews' brother?"

"Yeah."

"How did this happen?"

"Well, she got jumped by some kids, see, and we thought she was fine. But tonight we were wrestlin' around, and she hit her head real light on the coffee table. She fell down and she couldn't breathe, so we took her here. Is…she gonna be okay?"

"Well, she should be fine, but we want to keep her here for a day or two, just to make sure nothing else happens."

"Am I going to need to pay for her room and stuff?" Two-Bit asked. The doctor looked at Two-Bit very hard, then said,

"No. No, we can wave the fees. But I have to ask, how old are you?"

"Eighteen. I've been eighteen for seven months." The doctor nodded.

"You all can go see her now if you want. She asked to send all of you in as soon as possible." The gang nodded and followed the doctor to Lolly's room. Soda couldn't stand it, he ran to her side as soon as they walked in. And he didn't leave her side, not even when the rest of the gang left. This, he told them, was his just reward for leaving her. He spent the night in the hospital, holding Lolly's hand as she slept.

And during those hours while the rest of the building slept, Soda whispered his promise.

"I love you, Lolly. I will never let anything happen to you again. Even if it means I have to die. I swear I will do it."



Dess's POV

As soon as we got home, we all went to bed. Dallas waited for Darry to shut his door before sneaking up to my room.

"Dess…" he whispered as soon as he entered the room. He sounded as strained as he had when we were walking to the rumble. I had to smile. He knelt beside the bed, cupped my face in his hands, and looked at me.

"You are the worst thing for me right now. But I don't care."

I smiled again and watched him pull off his jacket and throw it on the floor, followed by his white tee shirt.

I'd seen this before on the rest of the gang, but Dallas always amazed me. He was so tall and thin. The moon glimmered silver on his pale skin, and threw his ribcage into sharp relief. The shirt caught at his shoulders, giving away the prominent blades beneath. As he tossed this too to the floor, I saw the muscles in his arm relax and contract. I knew that the arm was whipcord strong and reassuringly solid.

As was greaser habit, he slept in those pants. I figured they would prefer at least cloth rather than denim, but it didn't seem to bother them. He kicked off his shoes, kept the socks, and sank onto the mattress behind me, quiet as a cat. I turned to face him.

I, unlike him, was fully dressed in a pair of cutoff lounge shorts and a tight, spaghetti-strap shirt. He pressed his lips to the patch of skin where my shoulder met my neck, wrapping his arms around me protectively and pulling me into him.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, lips moving against my skin and making me shiver violently. I felt him smile.

"I'll live. You know I don't like it…but I'll live. I was so scared for Lolly." His arms spasmed against my back.

"I know what it's like to watch one of them get hurt. It's horrible. If you don't want to go to the hospital with the others, I'll stay with you. I'm not going to make you go through it."

"No. It's fine. I'll fight for my gang. I'll die for my gang."

"You'll die for your brothers."

"No, I'll die for my gang. I'll die for _you_." There was a long pause.

"I would find a way to kick your ass if you ever tried to die for me. I'm not worth it."

"You are to me."

"Mmmm…" he replied, sounding doubtful. Then he attempted to distract me. He brought his lips up my neck very slowly, breathing through his nose deeply, so I felt every exhalation. I trembled. He smiled

"Dallas, I will not be held responsible for what happens if you do that again," I told him in a low, fast voice. It was my turn to strain. He chuckled softly.

"I won't be held responsible for what happens if you don't stop me soon," was his reply.

"What if I don't feel like stopping you?" I teased, pushing him onto his back and shifting so my head lay across his bare chest.

"That's your own fault." He pulled me gently so only my legs lay on the bed and bent a leg to brace me. The tip my chin rested in the hollow of his collarbone and I could feel his heart beat feverishly. His arms clasped around the small of my back, but soon his hands moved up and down, pressing down in a rough back rub that nearly put me to sleep. "Comfy?"

"Uh-huh," I replied sleepily, and he laughed.

"Sleep." He tried to lay his head back, but I grabbed it and pulled him back up to look at me again. I pouted.

"How come _I_ never get to kiss _you_?" He smiled.

"Will it make you sleep better?"

"Most likely."

"Kiss away." I held his face gently in my hands, catching his lips with mine. I purposely made it a very strong kiss, and soon I had his lips moving against mine. I let it go on until he got a little too wrapped up in it, then I drew away slightly, smiling.

"You're so mean to me," he murmured, doing a perfect impression of a sultry movie star.

"Sorry. You're the one who refuses to go any farther." It was quite true. He frowned.

"Fine." He pressed a hand to the back of my head, making me lay my head against his shoulder as he leaned forward so close his lips brushed my ear as he whispered, "Good night, Dess." Then he fell back, and fell deaf to my attempts to get him to listen to me.



Lolly's POV

I awoke in the middle of the night, suddenly and violently aware that someone was in my room. I was ready to beat the hell out of whoever it was, until I jerked away from the hand covering mine and Soda's head jerked up.

"What? What's wrong Lolly, what do you need?" I laughed.

"I'm sorry I woke you, Soda. I didn't know it was you." I reached over with my now free hand and stroked his cheek. "What are you doing here, you idiot? You should be home, in your own bed, with the gang."

"I didn't want to leave you. It was my fault you're here. It's the least I can do."

"Soda. I have a question to ask you."

"What?"

"What are you going to tell…this…_Sandy_ when she gets here?" I saw his brow furrow.

"I'll tell her the truth."

"What's that?"

"I love someone else now. She was too late, and she'll have to accept that."

"Who do you love enough to turn her down?"

"You."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. I wasn't sure before, but seeing you get hurt destroyed me. I was so mad-I took down half of the opposing gang that was still standing just because I wanted them to pay for hurting you more. I care about you so much…I dunno what I'd do if I lost you." I contemplated his words. They were true. They had to be. No one decent, not even Dallas Winston, would lie about something like that.

"Thank you, Soda. You don't know how much it means to hear you say that." Soda looked taken aback.

"Nobody's ever told you they loved you before?"

"No. We lived on the south side, Soda. There were no decent hoods. They wanted you for your body, or they didn't want you at all. Our aunt could have cared less if we lived or not. Dess is like my sister, and I know she loves me. But it's not the same. I know Dallas lies with her at night. I'm jealous of her, sometimes. I wish I knew what that felt like." I looked deep into his eyes. He knew what I was asking.

"Once you get out of the hospital, you can sleep in my room whenever you want. I doubt Darry will care one way or another with me. He only worries about Dess."

"Why won't you lay with me here?" I asked shamelessly. "You're going to sleep here anyway."

"Because we all know I'll get kicked out of the hospital if that happened and a nurse found me." I frowned.

"Pleeeease?" I wheedled. Then I pouted. He remained as emotional as a rock. "Fine. At least kiss me goodnight."

"I'm not sure you want that."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"Because you wouldn't let me stop with just a kiss. I guarantee that."

"I'll be good, I promise." He frowned, then leaned in.

"If you really think so…" he whispered, and he closed the gap between us. It wasn't extraordinarily different from the eighty-six million other guys I'd kissed, considering they were all fairly good kissers. It was just the fact that it was Soda, or maybe the fact that I really loved him, unlike the others, that made it one of the most enjoyable things I'd ever done.

Even when he reopened the gap, neither the taste nor the feel of his lips left. He had been right, though I didn't want him to gain the satisfaction of knowing. I just sighed deeply and pretended I was tired.

"Thanks Soda. Thanks for everything." He smiled, stroking the back of my hand gently.

"G'night. I love you."

"Love you, too." I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, but I pretended a little too hard. The next thing I knew, I was in a crazy dream, in which the gang starred. It seemed like they were fighting over something, and then we fell apart into a million pieces, in that crazy way dreams have of making no sense. "_The end is near, Lolly. You know it. And you can't do anything about it._"

I couldn't make head or tails of it, and when I woke the next morning, I remembered none of it but the strange, hissing voice. I told the nurse who came in, but she wrote it off as a combination of pain meds and my concussion. Still, something about it had deeply unnerved me.

I felt a weight of dread drop into my throat like a ball of lead and stay there. Something big was about to go down. Something bad was coming. There was a traitor in our midst. Someone had to be told. But who would believe me? I doubted even Dess would believe this, when our paradise seemed so perfect, so golden. Was it all just a deception, sheathing a churning hellhole? Or was I just paranoid? Time would tell.



Tim/2nd

Tim was pleased. His plan was finally _going_ somewhere. Today was May twenty-third. God, it had taken a long time to get going, but that was fine. Lola had set up a date with Darryl Curtis and her sister, Elle. His plan was to get Elle to convince Darryl to go to college-now that there were two extra greasers to pay the bills, plus the royalties from The Outsiderswhich was about half lie, but somehow sold hard and fast. All anonymously, of course. That would get Darryl out of the way, and, according to Randal, everything would be easy to pull apart then. Angie didn't know about this plan, she shouldn't have to at all if this worked.

And Curly had been sent to Juvie again, the little ass. He was alone in the house at this moment, and had just gotten the call from Elle that Darryl had accepted. Tim knew they would hit it off. It was just too perfect. And, as if this could get any better, he had a new helper. One Cherry Valance.

She was, he supposed, annoyed that Dallas had used her as bait, so now she wanted Dallas to pay. It all fit together so well, he was almost afraid it was a trap. But who would want to trap him? No one could control the Shepard gang but him, Ange, or Curly; he had made sure of that. There was nothing else to take. Valance would create fake tension in and among the Soc's ranks. She would plant rumors that the Curtis gang was planning a full-scale war with them, and that would get them fired up enough.

Thus, there would be attacks to the little gang on all sides. All it would take was one domino, and the whole tower would come tumbling down. Just as long as he didn't slip up, and his pawns behaved as they were supposed to. The best thing about these particular pawns was that they were predictable. They wouldn't deviate from their normal instincts, this whole plan revolved around their lack of deviation from their usual ways of running.

Dallas would always, always run when things got too tight. Darryl would always shoot for the moon, even if he knew he would miss. Cherry would always be bitter, would always side with him if it meant bringing her ex crashing down. And Dess would always need someone. No matter who it was. This impenetrable gang had one huge, vulnerable Achilles' heel. They were predictable. This would be their downfall. For once, the undefeated Curtis line would lose. And they would lose everything at once. This was no fistfight for honor. This was an Apocalypse.

**A/N: Well, eight down the hatch. Thanks to everyone who's reviewing, especially Only4Miken. Any constructives are welcome; especially let me know if I'm keeping the gang in character. Review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That means you, Ari.**

**-Tigress **


	9. Storm, KittenSandy!

**A/N: Dedicated to my best friend, Ari Hernandez:**

**this chapter will be written completely from the point of Lolly, in honor of her**

Lolly's POV

Well, today was going to be crappy. I could tell as soon as I looked out Soda's window. Faithful to his promise, as soon as I had been admitted from the hospital, he let me sleep in his room. And that was all I ever did, thank you very much and get your head out of the gutter.

Storm clouds had gathered, which depressed me. Dess was the one who loved storms, not me. Glancing at the calendar that was tacked to Soda's wall, I saw that it was May twenty-seventh. It was also the day Sandy Marshall was supposed to come. That, plus the storm, made my day officially rock-bottom annoying and it was only six in the morning. I sighed and checked myself over in the window, which would have to suffice as my mirror. I had inherited red hair from Two-Bit, but my golden eyes were mine alone.

Finding that I was decent to show to a house of greasers, I flew down the stairs, almost bumping into Steve.

"Oops, sorry Steve!" I sang, bouncing away from him. To my surprise, he just grunted. I shot a look at Dess, who was eating already, looking dressed and showered. She was such a morning person. She sat on Dallas's right side, watching me. She returned my look with an "I dunno" shrug. That was real helpful.

"Guess what tomorrow is?" Darry asked out of the blue. We all looked confused.

"What?" Pony finally asked.

"Dess's birthday. Jeez, you guys!" Dess seemed to start a bit, then hit herself in the forehead.

"Aww crap! How could I forget! It's my own damn birthday!" I laughed, plunking myself down on Dess's right side. I already had a present picked out for her, and it was perfect.

"How many people already have presents for her?" Soda asked with a grin. He had been up before me. Darry, Pony, he himself, me, and Dallas raised our hands. Dess looked at Dallas.

"How did you get a present for me?"

"Your birthday is May twenty seventh. I know this because every May twenty-seventh, Darry and them would send you money. I've got a very good memory."

My gift would probably make Dess a little mad at first, but she'd get over it. I was having an ink duplicate made of her angel/Dallas sketch, and also having it framed and put behind glass. It was a spendy operation, but I wasn't expecting to go to college, now that I was a greaser. The whole thing cost about two-hundred bucks, and most of it was for the duplicate.

"Guys, Sandy called long-distance last night," Soda spoke up. "She'll be here by noon today." Everybody looked at me. They all knew I was going out with Soda. All I did was turn to him and say:

"Are we going to do this according to plan?" He nodded, and, even though they all looked confused, no one interrupted.

As we cleared our things from breakfast, I looked meaningfully at Soda. He ducked out of the chaos in the kitchen-Two-Bit and Steve were washing the dishes-to join me in the living room.

"How is Sandy going to take this?" I asked him. He ran a hand through his wheat-blonde hair.

"I really don't know, Lolly. If I could tell you, I would. Right now, Steve's kinda angry with me. He thinks I'm going to start spending all my time with you and Dess now, and we won't be able to just hang around anymore. It's stupid, but he could get mean. I'm just warning you." I nodded. So this was why…

"Could he possibly want to leave the gang?" I asked worriedly. Soda pulled a face.

"What?! No, he wouldn't be that stupid! What makes you even think that?" I took a deep breath. Did I want to tell him? Yes. I would have to trust him if we were going to be going out.

"Well, I had this weird dream while I was in the hospital. I don't think it was from the painkiller, either." I recounted my dream for him. When I was done, he frowned, deep in thought.

"You do sound really racked up about this. I don't think he would leave, but-" the rest of his response was drowned out by a loud crash.

"Goddammit Two-Bit, if you can't hold the plates, leave!" Dallas yelled.

"Steve started it!" Two-Bit defended.

"I did NOT!"

"I DON'T CARE WHO STARTED IT, CLEAN IT UP AND FINSIH THE DISHES!" Darry roared. The group in the other room fell silent, following his orders. Soda put a hand to his forehead.

"We gotta talk about this somewhere else, c'mon." He grabbed my hand, and threw a quick "We'll be back!" over his shoulder like a piece of meat meant to pacify a pack of wolves. Then he led me out the door, and gently tugged me in the direction of the lot.

Every time his foot hit the pavement, he tugged gently at my hand. It was something he didn't mean to do, but he did, and I didn't mind too much.

When we reached the lot, we sat down in a pair of old chairs, dragging them around to face each other.

"So are you telling me that you don't trust Steve not to leave?" Soda asked evenly, staring at me over the tips of his steepled fingers.

"I don't know. I always thought Steve was kinda…I don't know, strange, in a weird way." It was true. Even though Steve was a loud, happy, cocky guy, I got this feeling from him like he was a volcano that could erupt tomorrow, or next month, or never at all. "I don't know. I think that maybe, under the right circumstances, he could sell us out for his own security. I know you trust him. But…we should be careful, is all." Soda nodded.

"I get it. And I'm not mad at you. Look at me." I'd been looking at the ground, but I dragged my eyes up to meet his. He took my hands in his. "Thanks for telling me this. Really. I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me something doesn't feel right. I'll tell Darry; maybe we can get a tail on Steve and make sure he's not doing something he's not 'sposed to. Kay?"

"Okay," I nodded. Soda stood up and stretched. Then he extended a hand to me, which I took to help me get up. Once again, he led the way back to the house, and once inside, we got another surprise.

"Hey Sodapop!" Darry yelled from the kitchen. God, is he always in the kitchen?

"Yeeeaah?" Soda hollered back.

"Just got a call. From Marshall. Payphone. She's in town. Like, right now. We need to clean and all that annoying crap girls like to do-ouch!" From the sounds of it, Dess had hit him. "_As _I was _saying_, we need to clean before she gets here."

"Relative-clean or social-workers-are-coming-today-clean?" I asked.

"Yes," Darry replied. Soda and I shot each other a glance and sprung into action.

Cleaning supplies I never even knew we had were found and used. Every surface was scrubbed until it gleamed, then we got yelled at for not doing them right, and then they were scrubbed again until they blinded us with their shine. We worked in complete silence, except for an occasional "Toss us some ammonia," or an "Aww shit, gimme the paper towels."

The most eventful thing that happened was that Soda and Two-Bit got in a brief fight over the bleach, which resulted in a section of Two-Bit's hair to be dyed white. Other than that, we got 'er all done and were just putting away that things when Sandy knocked on our front door.

Soda, who was calling the shots for today, threw Two-Bit a hat, which he proceeded to put on sideways, and went to answer the door.

"Hey Sandy," we heard him greet her from the door. I threw a glance at Dess, who crossed her fingers behind her back for me. I smiled sadly. This would be difficult. My eyes closed. I didn't want to face this. At all.

Sandy walked in, looking a little shy, a little out of place. Her eyes were blue, but a normal blue, not Dally's blue, which scared me every time I looked at it. Her hair was a fair blond, but what I noticed the most was her skin. It was pale and creamy. She wasn't a greaser. There was no way she could be a greaser, live in Florida, and not have a tan.

My jaw dropped to the ground. My Soda…was dating a Soc? I looked around. Everyone else was fixed on Sandy as though they were seeing her for the first time, too. Even Soda.

"Wow Sandy. You've…you've changed." Oh. So she wasn't always Miss Perfect. That made me feel a little better. This…this _Sandy_ smiled.

"Yeah. After I got away from, you know, the east side, and into something a little better, I changed. You guys haven't changed a bit, though. But…" She had spotted me and Dess.

"My sisters," Soda supplied. "Well, at least, one of them is. The other is my girlfriend." Darry stiffened in shock, and even Pony's face betrayed him a little before he got himself back on the saddle. Dess squeezed my hand harder."

"Which is which?" she asked, sounding slightly amused. Damn, she wasn't thrown by the fact that Soda was _mine_.

"The dark-haired one is Dess, my sister. Lolly, the redhead, is mine." It warmed me to hear him say that, announce that I was his, even if I really wasn't. Even if I didn't belong to anyone, I just loved him.

Dess stepped up to shake hands with Sandy, and as I did, I realized how incredibly hard it must have been for Dess to accept Cherry's hand without starting a fight then and there. I kept my eyes averted from her, but she noticed the fresh, small scar on my face from when I was jumped.

"Oh my…what's that?"

"It's nothin," I replied nonchalantly, trying and succeeding in sounding tough and unfazed about it. "Justa little cut from a fight." I inclined my neck to show her the raw, still-forming scar on my neck and opened my hand, revealing a similar mark across my palm, from the glass.

"Did it hurt?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Not really. Blade cuts usually don't, but the one the ring made did." She looked impressed. Not so big now, I thought savagely. I'd like to see her in a fight. Sandy gave me one last sympathetic look, and as she turned her face, I saw a thin, pale line of stretched skin flicker in the light before it blended back in with the rest of her face.

"Where do I put my stuff?" she asked. Darry contemplated, his eyes going from person to person and conversing with them soundlessly. Finally, he replied, "On the couch, if that's alright with you. Two-Bit'll kip in Pony's room, and, as I recall, Dallas and Lolly already have lodgings they're pleased with." I smiled innocently at Darry. Sandy nodded and situated a suitcase of medium size at the foot of the couch that was closest to the wall.

"I don't want to make myself a burden to you guys. You know I sleep late, so make all the noise you want tomorrow." I smiled poisonously.

"Don't worry, dear. You've already made yourself a bigger one than you know."



That night, it stormed. Big time. Like, branches being stripped off trees. There was a tornado that touched down about a half-mile from Tulsa, and we went down to the basement. Darry, who really didn't like storms much, was surly and cranky as a mama hen, and Dallas seemed way freaked out. He didn't speak the whole time, and he was whiter than usual. Soda was good with it, cracking jokes. I think the electricity in the air reacted with his super-charged molecules in a big way. I'm not too partial to storms, and even Dess was quiet, even though that could have been from the fact that she was relaxed, because she fell asleep against Dallas. Two-Bit went along with Soda, Steve was still in his burly sulk, and Pony was tense.

To my eternal delight, Sandy _freaked out_. Like, she tittered in a way that was borderline hysterical. When we told her to be quiet and deal, she even looked hysterical. The one plus to being of the grease: you know yourself real well, which means you can control yourself real well. How do you think those boys can do it? I mean, being around pretty girls all the time would snap anyone else.

I just curled up beside Soda, against his warm, strong side and watched Sandy go from flustered from the storm to longing for the contact I was sharing with Soda. He put his arm around me absently and stroked my bare upper arm with his thumb.

"You all right, hon?" he asked.

"Mmmm…" I sighed happily. "Yeah." He smiled a lopsided grin that made my heart stutter.

"Alright. As long as you're okay…" He went back to conversing with Two-Bit about a cow and applesauce. The radio Darry'd brought down with us crackled to life with a new signal:

Attention all citizens within the listening area. The tornado danger has passed. You may now return to your normal routines. Please stay tuned to 98.3 for information on open treatment centers and damage control. 

We all clapped, and then laughed as Dess was roused from her cat nap with a start and a little yelp. Dallas gathered her up in his arms and carried her up the cellar stairs, much to her half-hearted protests. With a startled cry, I noticed that Soda was doing much the same with me, laughing softly and warmly as he did so.

This quieted me down. I was always transfixed by this laugh, so warm and calm, but with a wild, strong, fast, dangerous undercurrent, like the real him, the flighty, sparking, smart- mouthed hood, was trying to break out. He must have noticed my gaze, because he smiled again, a gentler smile than I'd ever seen before.

"You look sleepy," he murmured sweetly, and he hummed a few bars of some obscure song, just a few bars, but it was like silky, rich chocolate to my ears, and before I knew it, it was dawn.



"Hey, princess," Two-Bit teasingly purred, stretching upwards toward the ceiling as I came into the kitchen.

"Shut your misshapen pie-hole," I replied sweetly, making Pony and Dess snort into their coffee.

"Good morning, queen badass of badassland," Dess greeted me.

"And a good one to you, princess kickyurfacein," I told her, dumping myself into a seat. "Hey Soda-Ki." Soda flashed me a mischievous grin around the gum he was chewing. He was already done with breakfast, tipping back so far on his chair that he was in danger of going horizontal, rather than diagonal.

"We're goin' out tonight in honor of Dess's comin' of age," he explained. "Guess who's treating?" I racked my brains.

"Oh God no. Oh _God_ no. You didn't…" Smiling even wider, he started to nod. "Oh my GOD, you DID. How much money did she send?" Soda must have gotten a hold on their notorious grandma, who sent them ridiculous amounts of money for their birthdays-if she could be found. She was a hell of a bugger to track down, but you were rewarded well for it.

"Three."

"Thirty?"

"Higher."

"Three hundred!?"

"Hoh yeah." My jaw dropped for the second time in as many days.

"Are you effing serious? You are pulling my leg. Your gran sent you _three hundred dollars _to take her out?"

"Yeah. I don't know where we're gonna take her, because neither of you guys drink…"

"Neither do you," Pony pointed out, with his fork serving as a handy pointing utensil. Soda gave him a "Don't plague me with the details" look.

"I know where we can go," Two-Bit piped. "It won't be cheap, but there's a new greaser hangout marked, some old building. They play good music there, and from what I've heard, they're pretty decent." His look summed up what he couldn't say, lest Soc-Sandy freak out: "It's decent by grease standards. Socs and parents would freak, but…"

"Drugs?" Darry asked from a corner. Two-Bit shrugged.

"There's drugs everywhere, but we shouldn't have much trouble."

"You guys gonna let her drink?"

"If she wants. No hard stuff though, not the first time." Darry nodded, satisfied. See, it doesn't take much to satisfy him, not with the stuff he knows we deal with. Dess raised her hand like she was in class.

"Speak," Dallas called on her, and I jumped, because I hadn't noticed him.

"How much is this gonna cost us?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Not much," Darry replied. "Gram's money'll cover it. Keep the rest of whatever's left, do with it what you want. I don't care, as long as it's legal." Dess smiled, and I could see all the stuff she was picturing running through her little brain.

"You got your present yet, Dally?" I asked teasingly. He nodded.

"Not on my person. I'll pick it up later tonight. But yeah, I do." I shared a look with Dess.

"Oooh. So…mysterious." She smiled.

"Knock it off."

"Dess, it's your birthday?" Socy spoke up. "Jeeze, I need to find you a gift!"

"S'all right, Sandy, don't buy me anything. These guys are already spoiling me enough." She looked unsure.

"Okay…"

"Trust me, this is gonna be a good one," Two-Bit said happily, pushing back from the table.



"What was that you told us to do?" Sandy asked, staring up at the abandoned building-turned-dance-hall. I could practically feel my eyes glittering. This place oozed tuffness. Two big bouncers that I swear were twins looked down on us from their perches six feet and seven inches in the air, and a cool girl about our age, of Spanish origin, was taking money.

Tonight, we'd rounded up Soda, Socy, Dallas, Two-Bit, and of course, Dess, to go as a posse. The girl taking money waved me, Dess and Socy in, with a mutter of "Ladies get in free before eleven," and took a total of thirty bucks from Soda, who was paying with cash-gram's money. The first glimpse I got of the club blew me off my feet.

Rock-the best of the age-was blaring from speakers, and even as we walked in, it became swing. It was dark in the big room, with a pair of dimmed floodlights shining into the crowd from opposite corners.

"Oh, tuff, you guys," I heard Dess murmur in wonder.

"You like?" Two-Bit asked, looking pleased with himself.

"I _love_," the two of us replied in chorus, bursting out laughing. Socy didn't look so sure.

"Guys, I'm sorry, but this isn't really my scene. I'm gonna split." We nodded-we hadn't expected her to stay, and since she'd gotten in free, it didn't matter.

It was the first night home all over again, only this time we drank a little every once in a while. The guys didn't drink any more than we did, and halfway through the time we were there, my head was just starting to buzz. Soda insisted on dancing to every song we knew, and I didn't mind, because he was a good swing dancer, and he and Dallas together looked great when the danced with us. Toward the end of our stay, Two-Bit showed up with a blond none of us had ever seen before, and they were dancing so freakishly I was sure they were sauced pretty thoroughly.

We finally decided to call it at two in the morning-we'd gotten there at ten-because I tripped and would have broken something if Soda hadn't caught me. We ran all the way home, dodging debris from the storm and jumping puddles and generally making fools of ourselves.

"Greaser forever and Soc for never!" Soda shouted as we ran, laughing wildly-he was in a real good mood. We whooped in agreement, even Two-Bit, although he was a little slurred.

Bursting through the front door of the house, we saw Darry waiting up for us, a smile on his face and a newspaper in his hands.

"Have a good time?"

"Yeah!" Dess said in a high voice. She was still hyped up. "Thanks you guys!"

"S'nothin," Soda replied waving his hand with a dazed look on his face. We all kind of stood there cluelessly then burst out laughing.

"Shh! Shut up you guys, you're gonna wake her up," Darry scolded, gesturing to Socy, who was sleeping.

"I don't care!" I half-yelled. "She's not _my_ problem." Darry's eyes rolled.

"You guys need to get to bed. Anyone who wakes up tomorrow later than ten gets shot." We groaned, but went upstairs to sleep. I followed Soda to his room.

"What'd you get your sister for her birthday, Soda-Ki?" I asked.

"Hmmm?" he replied through the thin shirt he was pulling off. "Oh, me and Steve pooled and bought her a switch. Nice one, too." I nodded. That was a normal coming of age present around here. "What did you get her?"

"I had a sketch of hers inked and framed. She'll love it, trust me." He cocked an eyebrow.

"Which one did you get printed?" He was sitting on his bed now, holding a pair of tennis shoes in his hands. I sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Look. It's not my nature to be mysterious. But I can't tell you, and I can't tell you why." He looked confused, so I just laughed and shoved him. "Okay. I'm tired and I need to sleep."

"Sleep, then. Ain't like I've ever stopped you." He smiled like he was up to something. I thought better of challenging his plans and lay down, only to have him join me a moment later.

"Scared you for a minute there, didn't I?" he teased, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I stuck my tongue out at and he laughed. He threw a warm, strong arm around my waist and pulled me closer. "Comfy?"

"Yessir. Can I sleep now?"

"Proceed at your leisure." I closed my eyes, and just as sleep started lapping at the edge of my consciousness, I felt his lips against my cheek. Barely did I hear the pathetic mewl, but I did.

"What was that?" Soda laughed, as though enjoying an inside joke.

"Dallas's present. Go back to sleep."

"He got her a cat?!"

"No, he got her a kitten. Sleep, before I knock you out." Shaking my head, I did just that. Except when the damn cat jumped onto the bed, I slept just fine.

**

* * *

A/N: Okay, this is the end of the chapters I had written beforehand, so it'll be taking me longer to update from now on. In the meantime, review, spread the word, and read.**

-Tigress 


	10. Catfight

**This one will be slightly shorter, but I'll update very soon, so hopefully that'll make up for it. ;) Everyone enjoy, and, as always, review, review, review! **

** -Tigress**

Dess's POV

Tension was in the air when I woke up the next morning. Sandy was wreaking havoc on our lives, and Lolly couldn't take much more. Dallas was already at breakfast when I woke u, so I crept downstairs to survey the battle front. Lolly sat on the opposite side of the table from Sandy, as far away form her as she could be, and Sandy kept shooting looks at Soda. I could gone over there and hit her myself.

"Look, it's the birthday girl herself!" Two-Bit yelled, eating a toaster-heated waffle.

"How's eighteen treatin' ya?" Dallas asked softly, sliding a hand down my forearm as I sat down a seat away from him.

"Fine," I slurred, not feeling like talking. I still had a headache from the beers last night, since it was my first time drinking. "Na much be'er 'n seventeen did." He laughed.

"You'll get there." I drank some coffee, chased it down with a Pepsi, and had a ten minute argument with Soda, who claimed that Coke was the best and that, since his name was the beverage, should know. This ended when everyone in the gang and Sandy had taken a side and we were yelling at each other, and we finally realized what idiots we were. Then we stood there until Darry said, "Okay, she gets presents now, after that little episode."

So we traipsed into the living room, which, I realized had a coffee table. This wasn't anything new, but the stuff piled on the table was. There were five or six presents on the table, and knowing these boys, everything in them was good. It was a good haul, seeing as my old birthdays scraped in a present or two of good quality, one from Lolly and one from Aunt What's-Her-Bucket, and then a bunch of little things from other friends.

"Mine first!" Soda exclaimed, pushing a small, rectangular box into my hands. "Actually, it's mine and Steve's but that's okay." I had to smile. I slipped my fingers under the wrapping and tore through, popping the box open. A cool weight fell into my hand, and, even if my view was obscured by excess paper, I knew what is was. It was a blade.

I moved the paper aside and gasped. It was a beautiful semi-gravity blade, with a solid handle of stained wood. I flicked my hand, knowing it was a gravity and not a regular switch, and the blade flickered in the light as it opened and swung into place with a precise _snick_. I slid my hand up the handle and pressed my thumb against the blind side of the blade. It gave easily and flipped back into place.

"It's gonna open and close for you easier than a switch," Steve told me. "You'll have to get used to not fumbling for the release, but it won't extend in your pocket, either."

"Thanks you guys. I wanted one of these since I saw Two-Bit do his balisong trick.

"What, you mean…_this_?" He pulled out his pride and joy, a six inch butterfly knife, and flipped it eight or nine times. The rhythmic clicking and flashing still captivated me.

**(A/N: everyone who doesn't know what a butterfly knife is, Google it. Bit's blade was a butterfly in the** **movie.)** We clapped and laughed; he never wasted a chance to show off with that thing.

"Okay, me and your brother's next," Darry ordered, holding out a thin but solid package. I pulled off the paper, and out fell a handsome, leather-bound sketchbook and a set of inking pens.

"Whoa," I murmured, running my hand over the soft leather and opening the tablet. The heavy, artist-quality paper was on three rings, so it couldn't fall out if I bent the book too far.

"We didn't know you liked to draw so much," Darry told me.

"How did you find out?" I asked.

"I saw the sparrow," Soda replied with a grin, referring to a drawing of a sparrow I'd seen in my window. I'd finished inking it with odd pens I'd found around the house just recently. "Now you won't have to filch for pens."

"You guys…you know me way too well." Lolly shrugged.

"We try. Here's mine. Don't open it here, and don't eat me when you see what's inside. You'll be happy you have it one day." I took the meticulously wrapped form from her, examining it. I couldn't, for the life of me, decide what it was. After a moment of puzzling, I put it down beside me and looked expectantly from Two-Bit to Dallas. Two-Bit shrugged.

"Don't look at me, I made the cake." I looked at Dallas.

"Okay. But wait, Darryl has something else to give you." He looked darkly at Darry, who crossed his arms.

"Fine. You two can date…for now. And don't think I don't know where he sleeps, Dessarea Mae Curtis." I gave him my sweetest smile to hide my shock. What had Dallas given for this? He looked at me, then stood up.

"I'll be right back. Dess, close your eyes and _don't peak._" I closed them and heard him leave, and then the conversation started.

"Soda, what's he doing?"

"C'mon, Stevie. He hid his present in my room."

"Oh yeah."

"Wait, am I the only one who doesn't know about what this is?" Darry asked.

"Of course," Lolly replied. "Only you and Social over there."

"Cause you'd kill it," Soda muttered darkly from the other side of Lolly, or at least that's what I thought I'd heard. Then Dallas came back downstairs.

"Did you look?' he teased.

"No," I replied, eyes still closed.

"Okay. Hands out." I obliged.

"Don't jump." I nodded, and he placed something small and warm in my hands. Tiny paws clutched the edges of my hands for dear life, and I swear I heard a mewl. Dallas knelt in front of me. I heard it, but didn't see it, because my eyes were closed, and he pressed down lightly on the thing in my hands.

"Open," he breathed, and I did. In my hands was a little scrap of fur, a silver-blue tabby kitten, staring up at me with blue eyes. Dallas's hands were gently on its hindquarters, holding it down in my hands.

"Kitty!" I said, clutching it to my chest. It licked me and purred loudly. "Oooh Dally, he's so cute! Where on earth did you get him?" He was scrawny. I could tell this was no purebred, but truly a street cat. "God he's soft, Lolly, pet him." She did, then took him from me so I could hug Dallas and breathe in the familiar scent of him.

"I can't tell you where I got him, you'd bomb the place and steal his siblings," he smiled, putting his arms around me to hug me closer. "By the way," he whispered so only I could hear. "It's nice to have a girl who's the same age as me every once in a while." I laughed.

"It's nice to know we don't have to hide anymore. What did you do?" But before Dally could reply, Darry called us apart.

"Okay, I didn't say I wanted to watch it," he said sharply. "And, Dallas, who said she could have a pet?" Dally stood up to his full height, which was still three inches shorter than Darry, and said in a quiet voice, "I did." They stared at each other, and I thought maybe they'd start fighting right there. Any idiot could tell this wasn't really about the cat. Darry was trying to teach Dally that he was still on top, but it wasn't working very well. They stood there and breathed down each other's throats, not daring to blink. Full silence. Until…

"Get you hands off him, you dirty Soc, and if I _ever_ see you do that again, I'll save some money and kill you myself," Lolly growled. We all whipped around to see what she was frothing about, and eyebrows went up in shock. She was standing over Sandy, who was clutching Soda's arm. Soda looked bewildered, and Sandy looked frightened. "Guys, could you leave for a bit? Me and Social need to have a little bit of a talk." We nodded and scrambled over ourselves to get outside, after which ensued a violent but dead-silent fight for the spots in the window. I ended up in Dally's lap, which infuriated Darry, but I could tell by the tremendous smirk on Dally's lips that he enjoyed it immensely.



Lolly's POV

I glared at the Social until the gang left, then crossed my arms and breathed deeply.

"I'm not going to yell at you. I'm not going to scream or throw stuff or threaten you with horrible things."

"Then you're not mad?" she asked hopefully, and I almost laughed. Almost.

"Oh, I'm furious. Going AWOL isn't my style, though. That's Dess's job." There was a solid _whack_ on the window, and I grinned. "I will tell you this once. I want you to leave as soon as possible. You've overstayed your welcome here. I don't care if you rent out a room here in Tulsa, or if you go rough it at Buck Merrill's, or whatever. Just get the hell out of my house and get away from my boyfriend. And, if I see you near him again, I swear to God I will kill you."

"You said you wouldn't threaten," Social shot back snottily, and I knew there was no way she realized how five-year-old she sounded.

"I know. That wasn't a threat. That was a promise."

"Yeah, well I think you're just jealous of me." This time I really did laugh.

"Holy shit! How could you possibly think that I envy you? You're weak, you're conniving, you're a _really bad_ loser, and you're not tough enough to cut bread, let alone live in this house! Why would I be jealous of how goddamn _proper_ you are? I bet you've never been out of a dress, even! You can't see how good I've got it, can you? Or maybe you can and you're just bashing me for it! Get out. I am so _done_ with you." She stuck out her bottom lip.

"You wish you had the kind of money I have, so you wouldn't have to live here." I turned on her, my mouth falling open in disbelief.

"You are _really_ thick, aren't you?" I asked in a shocked tone. "God, if that's what it takes, I'll get Soda in here so he can tell you himself." I stalked over to the back door and wrenched it open; ready to yell for Soda, but finding he was already on his way over.

"I read your lips," he explained. "How hard should I put it?"

"As hard as you damn well please," I replied sweetly. "Just make sure she gets it." I went outside and sat down next to Des and Dallas, peering through the window myself. I felt eyes on me, and soon I had to look at the rest of the gang.

"What? I was protecting myself." They shrugged, and Dess checked my shoulder playfully.

"So I'm a loose cannon, huh?" she asked. I shrugged.

"Honestly, we don't know yet. The scientist that gave you to us said you were human with a few complications, so I don't exactly don't know what that means." She was about to retort with some witty comeback when we heard the door-the front one-slam. A car started and drove away. We waited, and soon Soda came out, running a hand through his hair.

"She up and left. Didn't even take her things."

"We'll leave them in the lawn for her to come back and get," Darry said gently. "And, this could be a bad time to tell you, but Shep's party is tonight." The guys perked up, leaving me and Dess puzzled.

"What's this about a party?" I asked.

"Every month, Shep has a party for the whole East side at his place," Soda explained.

"It's always the best party of the month, hands down," Two-Bit continued. "And if we're lucky, we'll have two fights today, one for Lolly and one for Dess when she meets-" Dallas promptly removed Dess from his lap and sat on my brother, pawing his mouth shut.

"If we're _lucky_, Dess won't meet anyone," he said forcefully, over Two-Bit, who was laughing so hard he was snorting dirt.

"_Mmkay, mft geroff muh,_" Two-Bit slurred, trying to wrench Dallas's hand off his mouth. "_Ur hehvy!_" Dallas laughed and removed himself from Two-Bit's back, pulling his friend off the ground and brushing the dirt off his shoulders.

"This fine specimen, ladies, is yours for a grand total of all the chocolate in you house and a ridiculous cable bill! Oh yeah, and all the beer you're worth!" he said in an announcer voice, gesturing to Two-Bit fakely. Two-Bit struck a pose, which was so cheesy we laughed our brains out. Then we went inside where, to our surprise, we found that it was twelve-thirty. The party, which still wasn't for another six hours, loomed in the distance. I went into my room to prepare an outfit, wanting to get away from the eyes that were still looking at me funny.



Dallas's POV

Dess and I finished cleaning up the living room by ourselves. She gathered together the sketchbook and pens, slipped the switch in her back pocket, and picked up the wrapped rectangle that was Lolly's gift.

"I still wonder what this is," she murmured, turning it over.

"We can find out in a bit. For now, we have to find your cat." She almost dropped the things she was holding.

"Oh cripes, where'd he go?" She started looking, but didn't have to go far. The kitten was curled up in Darryl's favorite chair, in a nest consisting of someone's shirt and half the sports section. "Thank you for him, Dally. I love him to bits." I smiled.

"Does that mean I have to start looking for a job replacement?" She smiled back.

"You might want to." Dess gingerly picked up the cat and repositioned it in her arms. "I thought you hated cats."

"Me? Nah. I wouldn't pick one for myself, but Lolly let it slip that you loved cats, and I know this girl a few houses down whose cat just had kits…I put two and two together."

"You're known to do that."

"What'll you name it?" She thought for a moment, absently playing with the kit's ears until it got fed up and toothed her finger.

"Ouch! You little hood! I think I'll call him Prosper, after Mom's cat." I nodded. I remembered Prosper.

"Your dad got it for her when you guys moved here," I recalled. "She named it that for good luck."

"He was."

"He was," I agreed. "Let's go see what this is," I told her, plucking at the wrapped mystery she still held. Prosper yawned in agreement. We went to her room, and she quietly shut her door. She dropped Prosper, who went to go sniff yesterday's shirt, recoiling from it."

"Aww c'mon," I defended, picking it up and chucking it in the hamper. "It's not that bad."

"I've smelled worse," Dess agreed, lying on her stomach across her bed. "Let's see what we have here." She shot me a mock-secretive glance and pulled off a sliver of paper, lifting the edge of the hole playfully. Then she gasped and slid it under her bed.

"Nope, it's not for you," she told me, smiling guiltily.

"C'mon," I wheedled. "It can't be that terrible."

"Oh, it is. You just leave it be, Dallas M. Winston."

"Alright, alright. Anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?" She cocked an eyebrow with an expression that reminded me freakishly of Two-Bit.

"What in God's name do you take me for, boy?" I laughed. Wow. The joy she gave me…

"I ain't much of a hotshot around you, am I? Just another bumbling idiot that this family seems so capable of kicking out." Dess's eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"Nothin'," she replied. "It's just…you…you never claimed them like that. When did you start feeling like we're your family?" It was a strange question, I know, but I got it. It finally felt like I was where I belonged. I loved these guys. They _were_ my family. Before they'd just felt like another stopping point, like the Ghosts in New York, and they all looked at me like they were wondering exactly how much longer I'd stick around. But now…I couldn't imagine leaving my brothers and sister.

"That's-that's a real good question," I replied, frowning. "I think…maybe the day I met you. Or right after." She grinned and sat up, grabbing me around the neck and kissing me on the cheek

"Funny how these things work out, huh, hood?"


	11. A New Kind of Pong

Lolly's POV

Dess knocked on my door, like I knew she would, at five-fifteen. She sidled in and looked in awe on my outfit.

It was one of my favorites, a black stretchy skirt that came down to a little above my knees and a silky, gold top, gathered at one side with a brass ring. I had in simple golden hoops and wore a gold necklace adorned with a narrow ring.

"Oooh, so _shiny_, Lolly," she murmured in fake awe, pawing the smooth top. I slapped her away playfully.

"Okay, I know what you want, so here you go. I already picked everything out. Wait, just to be sure, you're wearing Dallas's jacket, right?"

"Uh-huh." She glanced at me over the clothes I'd handed her. "Dress to impress, right? This is a wower?" My mouth dropped open in faked shock.

"Oh God, how could you possibly anticipate anything less?" I grabbed the clothes back and thumbed through them. "Here, we have a simple red camisole, but it'll look stunning on you with what I have picked out." I paused. "It's good on me, so it should fit your form very well. Next," I continued, ignoring Dess's playful eye-roll, "Is a black jean skirt that's about a half-inch shorter than mine, and don't look at me like that. Dallas has seen a lot from a lot of girls. It's hard to please him. Besides, this is probably the shortest Darryl's gonna let you out in. Moving on, black flip-flops. Yes, I know, they're kind of a bold statement and they haven't really taken off yet, but I have a feeling they will." I winked at Dess. She smiled. "Okay, and lastly, I have to go get the finishing touch." I ran to Soda's dresser and pulled open the top one, which was essentially mine. Most of my clothes were at home, but I had a few here. I pulled out a long, thin box.

"Oh, no way, Lolly. Don't trust me with those," Dess gasped when she saw the box. "I'll break them."

"No, you won't," I reassured her, opening the box to reveal my favorite accessory, a pair of red wing earrings, glittering brightly. She put them in gingerly to test the weight.

"God, it's lucky we have the same clothes sizes." I threw her a small bottle

"Damn straight. Go shower, and when you get done, put summa this in your hair. It'll make it nice and smooth. Not to mention it'll smell great."

"But I showered this morning!"

"I know you did, do it again." She did, and I was waiting for her when she came back, fully dressed.

"Okay, makeup. Not that much," I defended when she looked about ready to take my head off. "Just enough to make his eyes jump a little." Dess smiled mischievously.

"Lay it on me."

I was just getting done when Soda knocked on the door.

"You guys it's time to go, let's roll! We're in the T-Bird." We smiled at each other, and I had to admit that Dess looked great. We bolted out of the room and into hers to fetch Dallas's jacket, which was lying on the floor, waiting for her. When Soda saw his little sister, his jaw dropped.

"Looks good?" Dess asked with a playful smile.

"Oh God, Darryl is going to kill you both."

"I take that as a yes. Let's go!" We ran downstairs and vaulted into the sweet little red convertible Dallas won off Tim Shepard in a poker game. (This is what he told us, though I don't believe it.) Dallas was looking in the rearview, so he didn't notice Dess's appearance until we were on the road and Dess, sitting next to him in the passenger's, tapped his arm.

"Whoa! What did you do, Lolly?!" His head whipped around to stare at me, and I burst out laughing. This was great.

"Keep your eyes on the road, smooth talker. It's nice to see her in clothes that actually fit, huh?" I was happy it surprised him as much as it did. And, as for Soda, he was still speechless at my shining splendor. We both looked fantastic, much better than what these boys were used to.

"How long did this take?" Soda asked. "Must have been a while, I completely forgot you two were girls at all." I punched him on the arm, and he returned with a kiss on the cheek. "I'm playin. Relax, Lollypop." Within five minutes we were at Shepard's house, which was a large, two-story with a wraparound porch on the first floor.

"Holy moly, this place is _huge_!" I exclaimed.

"Babe, it's got to be if Tim's gonna house a hundred-odd people. Where did you think he'd put them, down his pants?" Dallas laughed.

"Tim inherited it," Soda explained, shooting a mock glare at Dallas for use of the word "babe," although it was obvious that no one but Dess was getting anything out of him tonight, or so I judged by the tightness of his arm around her waist.

Once inside, we found that the place was already jumping, and Soda gave me the layout.

"We're in the living room right now, obviously. It's where most of the dancing takes place, but there's some upstairs, too. Cards are in the back, and to the left is the kitchen. To the right is the bathroom-whatever you do, don't go in there after midnight, even if the door's open. The light will be off for a reason." He shot me a grin to show he was kidding, but something in his eyes said that there was some truth to his words. "Upstairs there's a beer pong game going on, by the sound of it." He paused to be punctuated by loud yelling. "Yup, that'll be beer pong." At my confused look, he explained. "Beer pong is this game me, Steve and Dallas made up one night when we were bored. It caught on quite quickly. There are also bedrooms upstairs, and I doubt you have to ask." I shook my head. "Good girl. Where first?"

I sighed, looking the dance floor up and down and finding that I knew most of the greasers here by face. Then I saw and open table-poker, my specialty.

"Do we play for money?" I asked, indicating the tables. Soda shrugged.

"If we feel like it." I smiled wickedly.

"Let's go make some money, then." Soda laughed.

"How did I know? Alright, I got ten bucks on me. That'll be enough to start us out." I followed him happily, leaving the rest of the gang to disperse at its leisure.



Dess's POV

Dallas was still in shock at my outfit, and I found out we'd gotten lucky. Darryl was out picking up his girlfriend in the Chevy, so he hadn't exactly _seen_ me yet. You can bet he would, though, and the only thing I had to wonder about was who he was gonna kill harder; me, because I let Lolly do it, Lolly, because she did it, or Dallas, because…well, no reason, really.

"Oh man, I gotta show that off," Dally insisted, taking me by the waist and leading me to the dance floor.

"Show what off?" I teased, tugging his sleeve. He whirled on me, putting his face not even an inch from mine. He gave me a slow, wicked smile.

"What do you think?" he asked in a low, irresistible voice. I blinked in surprise. He chuckled and brought me all the way onto the floor. "Show 'em how it's done," he murmured, twirling me out and back in expertly. It was that first night all over again, only there was something more between us than before. We moved with each other so much easier, and I didn't feel like I needed to work to impress him.

I had always known I was a decent dancer, but I'd never really realized how much I relied on dancing to show my feelings until I came here, where every party was judged by its beat. It seems easier to dance with Dally and let everyone see what we mean to each other than it does even trying to write my feelings about him here. Somehow, dancing just felt…right. In…out…under…around…it came easily. I didn't even have to think.

Before I knew it I was tired, and when I asked later, people would tell me we were out there for at least fifteen minutes, but I got lost. Dally saw the tiredness in my eyes and led me off. To my surprise, we got applause as we left, mixed with murmurs of "Where did _she_ come from?" and "Aw shit, looks like he's finally taken."

"Well done," Dally praised softly, kissing my cheek.

"I really wasn't paying much attention," I told him sheepishly. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh? Believe me, that was probably the best _I've_ danced in a long, long time." I shrugged.

"There'll be more." Dally smirked, but before he could get a word out, I felt a hand on my arm and was roughly tugged around to face a steaming Darryl.

"_What in the name of God are you wearing?!_" he ground out through clenched teeth. He must have seen me only from the back, with the jacket on, because when he saw what was under it, he went ballistic. His icy eyes flickered to Dally. "Dallas. Tell me why you let her out like this." Suddenly Dally was at my back, wrapping his arms around me protectively.

"Because she has every right to do it," he replied coldly. "She dresses how she wants to. I think you're having trouble grasping the fact that she's eighteen…like me. Sides…" He kissed my neck. "I think she looks great." That last part did exactly what it was supposed to. Darry's jaw dropped. Even I was a little surprised. He tried to rush Dally, but found that I was in his way.

"Move Dess. Move!"

"No." He stepped back and looked at me. He looked about ready to smack me when a hand appeared on his shoulder. A woman about as tall as Dally and about as old as Darry stepped up.

"Darry. It's not a big deal, hon. She looks great, and I'd say she's got a good boy looking after her." The woman standing next to my older brother had light brown, curly hair and a sharp but kind face, with grey eyes. She was small and lanky, but I could tell she was very strong from the way she held herself. Dally almost jumped out of his skin.

"Jesus Christ! Elle Nehls?" "Elle," if that was in fact her name, smiled.

"Good to see you out of the cooler, Dally-boy." I was officially really confused.

"Okay, not to be rude, but who the hell are you, and not to be ruder, but how the hell do you know _him_?" Elle blinked.

"You must be Dess. I was warned of your straightforwardness on the way here. I'm Elle, your brother's girlfriend. I know _that-_" she pointed a finger at Dally. "Because I used to work at the big house, and your boy clocked some serious time." I put my hands up.

"Okay, the first thing you've got to understand is that _this_" I jabbed a finger behind me, and by some luck, it poked Dally's chest. "Is really quite harmless. Once you get to know it, for the most part, it leaves you alone." Dally playfully tapped my head.

"Hey. I don't enjoy being referred to as an 'it'."

"Yes, well, it would confuse some people if I introduced you as an actual person. Most find you very similar to an animal."

"I know he's decent," Elle said. "You just gotta know how to treat hardened criminals. 'I respect you, but I'm the boss, so get over it.'" Dally smiled.

"Yeah, well, I respect girls who can work in a prison without getting jumped or worse." I turned into Dally, smirking.

"I didn't know you responded to any kind of authority."

"When I feel like it. See, Elle was in charge of feeding me, so I couldn't screw that one up, or I might not be here."

"I starved him once…or twice." I looked back at Elle.

"Did you now?"

"When he got mouthy. You've got a quick learner."

"It was be nice or die," Dally grumbled good-naturedly.

"However, I haven't seen you in for a while. Have you, by some miracle, turned over a new leaf?"

"I have, and, by the way, you're looking at it." Elle looked my over thoroughly for the first time.

"I see. Well…see you guys around." She led Darry off, and only then did I realize that she'd just saved me from being destroyed. Wow. Whatever happened, I hoped Darry kept her. I whirled to face Dally.

"Okay, you can't even imagine how lucky that was. Why to go and _kiss_ me in front of him, you fool?" I thumped his chest, but he caught my chin in one hand more gently than anyone would have thought possible.

"You loved it and you know you did," he replied in that low voice, his eyes glimmering playfully. I shivered, but his gaze held me.

"Sometimes I don't know I love you crazy or hate you senseless," I shot back, twisting my chin. His eyes flickered with a little dangerousness, and he pushed me back against the wall, touching his lips to mine in a way that made me act and not think. A full forty seconds later, he pulled back with an evil smile.

"After that…I'd have to say love me crazy," he murmured throatily. "Not that you'd care either way."

"Aww geroff. I don't think Darry'd like seeing you do that, and if he did, I doubt I'm in the mood to stop him doing whatever he does."

"To hell with Darry." He started to kiss me again, but I put a firm hand on his chest. I knew where he was going with this, and I really didn't think this was the best place to gt into it, even if I had been older. Yeah, I'm a filthy hypocrite. Sue someone who cares.

"Dallas. No. Not here, not tonight." He looked me in the eye and sighed.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, not looking at me. "Just being here…now…with you…I didn't think."

"I know. It's okay. So you're not used to this. That makes two of us."

"That's about right."



Lolly's POV

I was sitting at a table, drawing in money like it was flies on honey. The dealer had introduced himself to me and Soda as Pete, and he was nice enough, for a Shepard-unit hood. At least he wasn't tying to make a pass at me every three seconds. He knew how to treat ladies. It wasn't just an act, either, because Soda was getting us some drinks from the kitchen, and Pete was still extremely polite. However, the guy who walked up was anything but polite. First, he greets Pete, so I knew he had to be from the Shepard unit, which is totally fine, I mean, I got nothing against their gang. They kicked out some decent kids every once in a while. But then the guy pulled down his shades-yeah, he's wearing them inside a red-tinted house. How lame, right?

Anyway, he pulls them down and looks me over, and for a second I don't even notice, 'cause I get tripped up by his eyes, which are a rich, sapphire blue.

"Hello. I don't think we've met." His voice was smooth and deep.

"I don't believe so," I replied courteously. Hey, he could be a good guy. Yeah, right.

"So, is your boyfriend here?" her asked, and it was then I noticed his eyes tearing up and down my body like it's the last thing he'll ever see. I crossed my legs self-consciously. This guy was starting to make me nervous. Before I could reply that, Soda reappeared, holding two beers in his hand and a finger to his lips.

"He's not," I reply, playing along with Soda.

"Oh yeah? Didn't he ever tell you how rough these parties can get?"

"I can manage on my own," I replied coolly, then pretended to have just spotted Soda. "Oh! Soda, you're back!" The hood whirled and saw Soda, leaning against the wall and frowning.

"You wouldn't mind beating it down the road, would you, Shep? Ya know, before I have to do it for you?" Oh, so _this_ was Tim Sheppard. I'd expected there to be a lot…_more_ of him. He wasn't much taller than Soda, although I'd heard he was twenty. Which made me wonder…why was he hitting on _me_? In any case, Sheppard whipped back around to face me.

"I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend." I shrugged and gave him an adorable smile.

"Yeah…I lied. Whatcha gonna do 'bout it?" He looked like he was gonna do _something_, but then he thought better and stormed off. Soda slid into the seat next to me and cracked the beers.

"So. Can we get a deal, here?" Pete shrugged and dealt out to the five of us who were at his table. I continued to win big money for about ten minutes, and then Soda got bored. I was ready for a change of pace by then soon, but I wanted to win up as much money as I could. However, he promised me a round of beer pong would break it up a little, and then we'd dance, and probably do it all over again before the night was over.

So we traipsed upstairs and I was hit by a bizarre sight. A Ping-pong table, but on it were two sets of cups, set up tenpin style, and no net. Four people, two on each side, stood at it, throwing Ping-pong balls at the cups in turns. Another guy stood off to the side, watching the game more carefully than anyone else. As I watched, one of the guys sunk a ball into the opposing team's cups, and cheers erupted.

"Good, we're coming in on a new game," Soda murmured. "That means I can teach you, and then slip us in to the rounds." We padded over to the table and Soda exchanged a few quick words with the ref, who nodded. "Okay, we're in the next round, so I can teach you.

"As you can see, there are two teams of two people." I nodded. "Each team has a set of cups, and each sup is filled with beer. There are ten cups to a side, set up like bowling pins. Now, there are two Ping-pong balls as well. They decide who goes first by throwing a ball I the air and the rep that catches it wins the balls for his team. Each turn consists of two overhand throws-one from each member of the team. They try to throw the balls into the opposing team's cups.

"There are two different ways to score. One, you can sink a ball into a cup. You sink a ball, the other team drinks that cup and takes it out. Two, you can bounce the ball into a cup. You bounce and sink, they clear that cup, _and_ you get the balls back on your side. However, as soon as the ball touches the table, they can swat it out of the way, so it's a risky move. Are you with me?"

"Yeah. It looks simple."

"It is, really, but I'm only about half done. There's one way to get a bonus-if your team sinks both balls into the same cup. When this happens, the opposing have to clear _two_ cups, _and_ you get the balls back. But you can also get a penalty if you overthrow-you have to drink.

"Then there are the basic rules. Both teams get to rearrange the opposing side's cups once-but the ref has to approve. And, the farthest cup on either side has to be at least one knuckle from the edge of the table. Oh, and this is the last one, if the opposing team sinks into your last cup, you have one glory shot to tie the game. That means you and your partner have one turn to clear the cup or cups on the opponent's side. This means that if there are multiple cups, you've got to get a double cup or a bounce to get the balls back. If you manage to do that, enough times to clear their cups, which is a miracle, but it's happened, the game ends in a tie."

"I see. It's really not that hard."

"Yeah, but then you throw in a ref. In the end, it's all him. He decides if you can wave your hands over your cups to throw off the other team, if you can cuss, if you can scrabble for the ball if it lands in the middle of the table-and all actions ultimately go through him. You can lose because a ref hates your guts. It's not always a fair game-that's why we usually have Two-Bit ref when we play, but that's okay. Now, watch, and if you have questions, ask." I did watch, and the game played out quite the same way Soda had explained. I did notice one thing-they seemed to be subbing every once in a while. I asked Soda, and he frowned in distaste.

"They bullpen," he explained. "Round up a bunch of good players before their match and pay them off to make tight shots for them. Depending on the ref, it's completely legal, or can get you removed. None of our gang does it. It's cheating." I nodded-it didn't seem fair at all.

Finally it was our turn, and we took a stand against a pair of greasers I didn't know, even from the Shepard unit. A beautiful, fox-faced brunette girl who was about as tall as I and some obscure other guy I didn't know and haven't seen since. However, the girl called across the table to Soda.

"Sodapop Curtis! Long time!"

"Hullo, Sylvie," Soda muttered. 'Sylvie'…It caught in my brain and I couldn't remember from where. They went forward and Soda, being taller, won the balls for us. We started out with a double cup right away, and then a bounce from me, covered by Soda, but then we both missed.

I found that I had a knack at this new game, and by the time we'd used our restack to put their two remaining cups one hand-span from the edge and one behind the other-Soda explained that you had to be that specific, because length from the edge didn't matter in a restack, and if you weren't careful you could get screwed-we still had five of our ten cups up. All it took was a pair of sinks, perfectly placed, I might add, and we knew we had the game tied up, because never in the history of the game had a team cleared five consecutive cups in the final round. Naturally, we won. We hadn't played for money, but it was still fun, in moderation.

However, as Sylvie and her partner walked away after shaking hands with us and exchanging a few words, Soda pulled me close to whisper, eyes on Sylvie's retreating back, that Sylvie was Dallas's ex-girlfriend, and that her being here was definitely not good.



Steve's POV/ 3rd

It took him long enough to find Tim, and when he did, he found that Tim was in fact drunk, hacked off, or both. You never could tell with Tim Shepard. Steve put a hand on the gang leader's shoulder, and he spun, snarling, hand clenched into a fist.

"Oh. It's you," he sneered.

"C'mon," Steve smiled, reaching into his pocket. "I got somethin' for ya." Tim's eyes widened.

"You got it that fast?"

"He sleeps in Dess's room and leaves his jacket on the floor. It was a piece a' cake. They sleep deep." Tim laughed.

"Yeah, that's usually the way. Give it." He started to reach for the slip of paper Steve had withdrawn, but Steve snatched it out of the way.

"Nope. Not 'till you tell me what it's for." Tim looked at him exasperatedly, and he tensed to duck. Instead, Tim spoke.

"You haven't figured it out yet?"

"I have my ideas."

"Good." Tim feinted in mid-sentence, and Steve was so shocked that he found his hand empty. "That's all you need till later, then. I gotta go find Lola. Oh." He turned from walking away to smile at Steve. "And, did you know? Sylvie's here. I think you should arrange a little…meeting with her and Dess." Steve smiled, but he couldn't help sensing trouble ahead when he thought of what'd been on that scrap of paper.

_Rebecca Martin _

_348, Bronx, New York_

_623-89945

* * *

_

**A/N: Yes, our favorite boys created beer pong. ;) Now, I have a few things to say. Flip-flops weren't around till the war, when soldiers brought them back from 'Nam, but I felt that the chapter wouldn't be complete without them. So, we see a little more of Tim's plan unfold. Don't worry, everything…or almost…will be revealed. Everyone review! **

** -Special thanks goes out to Only4Miken, who reviews so faithfully... and also to babygurl333, who said I could use some material, but I replaced it w/ beer pong...thanks anyway!**

** -Tigress**


	12. Water and College

Tim's POV

**A/N: I've decided to do Tim's bits from first person, since he's an important character. Sorry for any confusion.**

Now I was just plain annoyed. The girl, Lolly, if my sources were right, was already learning to lie from her brother. And, she'd completely blown me off, which was a record for the night. No one blew off Tim Shepard. The only good thing that had come out of this night was that I now had Rebecca's phone number, which would prove to be insanely useful. Thinking carefully, I decided that maybe tonight, I'd formally acquaint myself with Dessarea Curtis. I was really only after her because Dallas had gotten Sylvie last time, and settling an old score with the gang would be fun. I didn't even know what color her eyes were.

As I padded through the crowd with tiny precise steps-anything bigger would have resulted in stumbling, and I didn't stumble at my own parties-I kept my eyes peeled for her.

She wasn't on the dance floor, which surprised me, but then I remembered that I'd seen the gang pull up almost a half hour ago, which meant that the two'd probably already done their dancing for now and were resting a little. My eyes shifted more to the mass of people ringing the floor, and spotted her in due time. I smiled to myself-she was all alone. Wherever Dallas was, it wasn't here. Idiot kid.

I waltzed up to Dess as smoothly as possible, considering that every time I blinked I had to re-steady myself.

"Hey darlin'," I drawled, sliding up next to her and maneuvering an arm around her shoulder. If she was dating Dallas, the straightforward manner should work. Instead she slapped me open-handed across the face lightly and slipped under my arm.

"Go away. I'm taken," she said in a bored voice.

"Not like you seem happy about it," I frowned. "Don't like your boyfriend much?" She sneered at me.

"More than I like you, and I'll thank you to stay out of my business."

"You didn't answer my question. Do you like him?" Her deep, brown, hard eyes flickered to mine, shooting me all sorts of contempt. I grinned.

"I have something that you could never possibly understand, or even begin to get, Tim Shepard. Now, I feel the overwhelming urge to hit something, and that's gonna be you if you don't _leave me alone._"

"Oh, fiery. Now I remember. Dally hasn't changed a bit. Quit playin' hard to get, I could give you a lot more than he ever could." I tried to grab her again, and this time she did hit me, harder than before, because it was closed into a fist. It was so hard; I barely registered the irony of the jacket sleeve coming forward to cover her fist, which meant I'd just been hit in the face by my friend/enemy's own jacket, which was being worn by a girl I was trying to pick up. Who, coincidentally belonged to said friend…enemy…thing?

Whoa, drinking too much before a fight is not a good idea. I felt myself being spun around forcefully, and Dessarea started to speak behind me.

"Not one word, Dess. He has this coming to him," a cold, familiar voice proclaimed.

"Aw Dallas, I was jus' playin'," I defended.

"Didn't look like it to me. How many times do I have to tell you?" he growled. "Your job is to pick up girls that I don't already have. You step in, I crack your ribs. Or did you not learn your lesson with Sylvie?" I grinned, looking up at him for the first time.

"If it was Sylvie, I'd be passed out by now? Why talk when you've got fists?"

"Dess don't like the fighting," Dallas replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't do what Dess don't like."

"That doesn't sound like the hood I know," I teased, but my mind was racing. Should I have listened to Randall when he told me about how much Dallas was changing?

"I ain't the hood you _knew_," Dallas replied coldly, stressing the last word with a little shove. "But you'll be seeing a lot more of him than anyone else if you keep up chasing Dess. She's not gonna go for you, and if you try to hurt her for that, you might not live to see your brother come back from reform." He turned from me, but stopped when he realized he'd forgotten that Dess was still there. "Dess?" he called softly over the music, and I noted how quickly his voice had changed from ready to kill to welcoming. She passed me quickly, giving me a cool stare.

I couldn't stand letting Dallas win a fight in my own house, at my own party, with my own gang watching. I snagged Dess's wrist and kissed her quickly. She wrenched back and punched me in the stomach, then threw an uppercut to my jaw.

"Does it take a girl kicking your ass for you to get what he just told you?" she snarled, stepping back from me. As the two walked away, I heard Dess murmur, "You didn't have to step in. I was gonna start fighting before too long." And Dallas replied, "I know Tim. He learns things the hard way, and most of the time he has to learn them from me."



Dally's POV

Dess grabbed my arm and twined her hand in mine.

"Hurt?" I ground out, not capable of using full sentences quite yet.

"No," she replied quietly. "I'd like to meet him in a rumble sometime." I looked down at her, noting that, even though I was pretty short, she was still smaller than me. Looking at her made the anger in me lie down and chew a bone.

"No you wouldn't. He's a devil when he fights. I first met him in a street rumble. The cops had to pull us apart, but we were too alike to hate each other for too long."

"You didn't seem too fond of him just now." I frowned.

"Damn your perceptiveness. No, I've kind of outgrown him. He's still a bit of a jerk."

"The old you was friends with him. You've changed a lot," Dess replied sagely, and I turned my head to look at her.

"How old are you?" I asked, laughing.

"Sev-eigtheen," she replied with a smile. "Why?"

"Because sometimes it's hard to believe stuff like that could come out of such a small mouth," I told her shaking my head. "You're too smart for me."

"Yeah," she replied, rubbing her cheek against my shoulder teasingly. "I'm just too good like that." Then she stumbled and a very unladylike curse slipped out. "Oops. Sorry." I grinned, laughing again.

"God, you can even make me laugh," I told her, tugging a lock of shiny brown hair. She cocked an eyebrow comically.

"You should see what I do to people who still _have_ their souls." I cuffed her shoulder and she returned the favor. I realized that I was acting like a complete idiot…and actually having fun while doing it. I was really starting to change, thanks to Dess. I wasn't mean anymore. I hadn't even felt the need to touch Shepard back there, and yet the fact that I was angry at all proved how much I'd changed from the guy he made friends with. Thing was, I liked this new me. A lot. I could stay this way forever. Too bad things are never that simple.



Dess's POV

One week after Tim's blast of a party, I walked in the house after running to the DX for some Pepsi, and smelled…a deliciousness. It was like fried chicken, only better somehow, like…like _essence _of chicken.

"Aw Darry, what _is_ that?" I moaned, slipping into the kitchen. Much to my surprise, it wasn't Darry at the stove, rather Elle.

"Elle? What are you doing here?" She turned to me with a frown.

"My stupid landlord kicked me out," she told me. "I'm bunking with you guys until I can find a new apartment." I crossed the room to give Elle a hug. Over the week or so they'd been going out, I'd started to get attached to Elle.

"Why?"

"Because he found out my little sister is dating Tim Shepard. Kicked me out 'before started bringing wild parties and drugs into his apartment.' That stuck-up arse." I laughed.

"Don' worry 'bout it. Living here is about the funnest thing I've ever done." Elle frowned at me playfully.

"Now Dess, it's 'most fun'." I threw up my hands.

"I can't use improper language in my own house? Jeez!"

"No," Elle replied, grabbing my wrist. "But I need your help. I'm making chicken noodle soup for the guys for lunch." I looked at the range top, which had a skillet with browning chicken on it.

"Hon, you know we have condensed, don't you?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. Elle pulled a face.

"I'm the world's best cook. I settle not for Campbell. Here, cut some celery and carrots, I'll have you on noodle detail in a sec…wait. Where's your good-for-nothing boyfriend?" I shrugged.

"I dunno. Want me to go find him?"

"Yes." I went into the living room and yelled for Dally. "Huh," I muttered, coming into the kitchen and heading for the phone. "He wasn't at the DX." I dialed in the gas station's number, thinking maybe he'd gotten there shortly after me.

"Hello?"

"Hey Steve. It's Dess. Did Dallas just come in?"

"Um…hey, Soda!" there was a muffled "_What_?"

"Have you seen Dallas?"

"_Not since this morning_!"

"I guess not, Dess."

"Okay. Thanks. Tell Lolly that she doesn't need to make lunch, would you?"

"No problem. Bye."

"Bye." I hung the phone in its cradle and dialed up Tim Shepard's house. A girl answered.

"Hello, Shepard residence, Angela Shepard speaking."

"Hello Angela. Is Dallas Winston over there?"

"No he's not, Sylvie. Try the Curtis's." I frowned, then realized that this Angela person must have been Tim's elusive little sister, and she thought I was Dally's ex.

"No, Angela, I'm sorry, I'm not Sylvie. This is Dessarea Curtis, Darryl's little sister. _I'm_ Dallas's girlfriend now."

"Oh! I'm sorry, Dessarea."

"It's okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Goodbye."

"Bye." I hung up the phone and faced Elle.

"Okay, that was weird."

"What?"

"I just called Shepard's place to see if Dally might've been there, and Angela Shepard mistook me for Sylvia Reynolds."

"I'm not surprised. You two sound alike." Stranger still.

"Oh, wait! I know where he is! He's in my room!"

"Why?"

"I don't know, probably napping or something. He can be real lazy sometimes. When there's no one around to do anything with, he gets bored easily." I tromped upstairs and dragged a bedraggled Dally downstairs.

"What do you want?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes. Then he saw Elle. "What is she doing here?" He seemed so confused.

"_I_ am making food for you." He got a bewildered look on his face.

"I can't be back at the cooler! Dess is here!" he looked more closely at me. "Wait, you're not a dream, are you?" I laughed. Dally was too funny right after he woke up.

"No, sweetie. You're not. Elle is staying with us until she can find another apartment." Dally rubbed his forehead.

"Oh, okay…no, wait. Did you just call me _sweetie_?" Now Elle joined me in gales of laughter. Even Prosper poked his head into the kitchen with an investigatory mewl, pushing his tiny head into the air when he caught the scent of frying chicken.

"You see what you get when you fall asleep in midmorning?" I teased.

"Okay, you said you _needed_ me for something. What do you _need_?"

"I _need_ your manly manliness to help me chop some carrots," Elle replied, shaking a carving knife at him and making him sidle behind me. "And possibly many sprigs of celery, and, depending on how many recruits we get in the next hour, some egg noodles."

"I see and obey. Find me a knife and some celery. Dess can handle the carrots." I stuck my tongue out at him, opening the fridge to find a few bags of veggies. I threw him the celery and clutched a bag of baby carrots while I fished in the knife drawer for two paring knives. I passed one to Dally and pulled a cutting board out of a cupboard, setting it between us and fishing some veggies out of the fridge, which I noticed was newly stocked.

Instead of using a knife, which would have been so forties, I pulled out a grater and grated six or seven carrots, racing Dally to get done. Needless to say, I won.

"Well, guess what?" Dally growled playfully, his knife clicking sharply against the cutting board. "At least my celery is perfectly symmetrical!"

"Like mine's not?" I snorted. His mouth dropped open, and he reached around me to pull a carrot out of the pile.

"You see this?" he asked, holding it up to eye level. "This, Dess, is a unround carrot!" Elle snorted.

"One, 'unround' is not a word, two, if you have to use it, it's 'an', not 'a'." Dally looked bored.

"Whatever."

"He just uses bad grammar to be contrary," I gushed, grinning. Elle turned around to make sure I was kidding, in time to see me throw my arms around Dally's waist. "Really, he's a lost little seven-year-old who wants to be loved!" He frowned down at me disbelievingly.

"I cannot even comprehend that you just said that," he muttered. "Get off me." But a smile twitched at the corners of his lips, and a minute later he had to duck behind his arm to hide a laugh.

"Aww," Elle crooned, slugging Dally's shoulder. "You two are so cute when Darry's not around to ruin it!" I blushed. I'd never really though about how we looked as a couple. I guess I'd never really cared, but now I realized that, with our contrast in skin, hair, and eye color and our height difference, we probably did look sweetly mismatched.

"What is _up_ with Darryl anyway?" Dally asked Elle, looking over her shoulder into the soup pot.

"He doesn't like you. At all," Elle replied bluntly, pushing him out of the way. "Back, foul beast. You'll spoil it with your ugly mug." Dallas laughed.

"Okay, why does Darryl suddenly magically not like me?"

"He doesn't like that you're dating Dess. Thinks you'll ruin her. You know…" she shot him a glance and he shrugged.

"Okay guys, I'm not like, eight! You can talk about that kinda stuff in front of me, it's not like I'm gonna puke or summat!" I said loudly, a little annoyed. Dally shrugged.

"Yes, but it's also not something you go around saying in front of your girlfriend, the likelihood-hang on…you know what, screw you!" Dally smiled. He pushed me away from him, but with iron reflexes caught my wrist again to bring me stepping safely back into him. He pulled some quick, easy steps leading me with his hands, and stopped, laughing at the expression on Elle's face.

"Well, I have one thing to say," she told us. "That was, like, the king of kingly randomness."

"And what was that, a waltz?" I asked, a lopsided grin on my face as I turned to look at Dally. His eyes widened.

"Whoa. Did you know you look just like Soda when you do that?"

"No kidding? Did you know you look just like one of Santa's elves _all the time_?" I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He cuffed the back of my head.

"I am no elf. I am…you know, I don't really know exactly what I am, but I'm thinking something along the lines of a giant panda would be appropriate." Now Elle attacked him with her soup spoon.

"None of you idiot greasers make sense and it's really starting to bug me except I can't kill any of you since I live here now so would you please all just be nice and make some semblance of sense every once in a while?" she yelled loudly, still beating Dally 'round the head with her spoon of death.

"I'm never nice," he said bitingly, but then he looked at me, because we'd said the same thing, at the same time. "Okay, when did you start doing that?"

"Just now, I guess," I replied, blinking. We didn't get much time to muse over that one, because the door flew open.

"Hello, members of the Dominican Republic!" Lolly sang out. "Your saviors have arrived, and they are wreathed with DX uniforms and reek of gasoline and cheap cigarettes!"

"We come bearing cake!" Steve chimed, one arm around Soda's shoulders, the other holding a rather large cake.

"And a bunch of sugar!" Soda giggled.

"LOTS," Steve reinforced. "THE SUGAR FAIRY CAME TODAY!" Lolly looked at us.

"I'm sorry guys, they're on a sugar high, big-time. I don't know how it happened. Hey Dess, Elle. Please stop attacking the merchandise with a utensil. It would be appreciated."

"How much sugar, exactly?" Dally asked, rubbing the back of his head which, as I flitted around to investigate, I found was going to bruise, swell, or both.

"I dunno. I don't even know how it happened."

"Wow. This could be bad. Soda, how many fingers?" Dally held up three fingers and his thumb, like it was a normal exercise. Soda whirled to face him and took a moment to focus his eyes.

"Are thumbs fingers?"

"No."

"Three fingers and a thumb, then."

"Which hand?"

"Uhh…left?" Dally frowned.

"Try again."

"Right?"

"No."

"What the hell?" Soda looked confused. "Which is it, ya ass?"

"Right."

"Well." He turned away again, this time abruptly on his heel, causing him to stumble a little. Dally sidled closer to Lolly and covered his mouth with his hand. I listened.

"Did they get a hold of any alky-hall?"

"Alcohol? No, I don't think so."

"Think again."

"Wow. I don't think I've ever seen Soda drink anything," I observed.

"You won't see him do it much. Something good must've happened."

"Guess what guys?" Right on cue, Soda turned back to us, a ridiculous grin pasted on his face. "Me and Stevie-Boy here gossa raise! We're th' managers now!"

"That calls for celebration," Elle poked in sagely.

"You know where we should go? The swimming hole. You know, the big one that only we know about," Steve suggested. "It's waaaay out there," he said, making his voice high and waving his hand weakly in the general direction of north.

"So no one will eat us if we get loud," Soda concluded. We looked around at each other, all gazes eventually landing on Dally.

"You're the only sober one here who knows about this alleged swimming hole," Lolly told him. "Do you think we should go?"

"We need to wait for Darryl to get home from work. Get some food into these boys now. Soak up some sugar and beer so they don't drown when we get there." His contemplative face slowly turned to a wolfish grin. "You guys have swimsuits,_ right_?"

"Yes," Lolly replied, sounding scandalized. 'What do you expect?"

"Will there be anyone else there?" Elle asked, sounding doubting. "Like, will a bunch of Socs show up in the middle of our little evening and ruin everything?"

"Nah, see, that's the best thing. No one knows about this place. No one. We don't even think it's on any maps, at least, not the ones we can find."

"Sounds perfect," I murmured, and Dally cast me a glance that said it was exactly that.



Dally's POV

When Darryl got home, we introduced our idea to him. Soda and Steve had settled down a little, but they still jumped at small noises and broke out into unexplainable laughing sprees. He said it sounded fine, so we packed a cooler and got dressed, taking turns in the bathroom. All us boring men just wore some jeans or cutoffs, since we didn't have the money or interest to waste on proper trunks, but the three girls went all-out.

Elle wore a navy one-piece that had a very low-cut collar and left her back from her shoulders to her waist exposed. She pulled her hair back into a tight bun. Lolly and Dess chose slightly more statement-making swimwear. Lolly settled on a black two-piece that had a short skirt added to the bottom and ties in the back. Dess's was a copy of hers, only in white, which looked great against her darkly tanned skin. Lolly's fair skin caught the black of her suit real well.

Darry nearly had a conniption when he saw them, and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Two-Bit slip Steve five bucks out of his wallet. Not the kinda thing to be betting on, guys. Jut then, Elle tapped me on the shoulder. Oh, right. I started to open my own.

When we got to the edge of the sparse woods that were, as Steve had so intelligently put it, "waaay out there", we hopped out of the beat-up truck and the 'bird, hiding them as far into the tree-line as we dared. Darry also stuffed a large flashlight in his pocket, since it would be dusk in about a half an hour. Everyone was coming tonight, even a few of the nicer Shepard gang, though we'd tried to keep it as quiet as possible. Party news spreads fast, though. It was gonna be something.

The swimming hole was, and always had been, perfect. The hole itself was deep, about thirteen or fourteen feet, and the water was always warm and crystal clear. It was somewhere around twenty feet square. We suspected that maybe someone had dug out some stone or something, because it was almost perfectly square and lined with limestone. Now it was filled with what we were mostly sure was spring water, and, since it had been cut into a hill slash cliffy-thing, there was a nice eleven foot drop-off where had tied a rope about as big around as my arm to a branch about as big around as my waist. I went up to the top and came off it like a screaming maniac. It was a pretty good dive, though. You gotta give me credit for that.

Soda's POV **(once again, Soda is now new and improved in first person!)**

The sugar high Steve and I had been on was wearing off, but I never got a low from those for some strange reason, so everything was okay. Instead of being a screaming maniac and running off the cliff like some people, I jumped right in at the edge, my pants weighing me down a little, but hey, I was used to it. The water felt great-we hadn't been swimming for almost two years. To much crap had been going on to do that kind of stuff…you know?

Lolly joined me, doing a perfect side-stroke.

"This is nice," she commented, waving a hand.

"No kiddin'," I replied, floating on my back and looking up into the blackening sky through the clearing in the trees.

"How did you find it?"

"We were just screwin' around one summer out here. Figured it was about the only place in a five-mile area we hadn't explored or claimed yet. Johnny loved it out here," I added more quietly, in case Dally was close by and listening. Lolly blinked a little.

"He sure was a good kid. I hoped he ended up some place nice."

"Aw, you guys shouldn't have gone to Kearney. He grew up real nice, for someone who got treated worse than a dog."

"We didn't have much of a choice," Lolly reminded me, tapping my elbow gently. "Darry pretty much said it was there or adoption, 'cause he 'sure as hell wasn't going to let a pair of girls grow up here'."

"I got real mad about that. So did Two-Bit and Dally. He just had to send our happiness away."

"Dally cared…why, again?" I looked at her, my mouth twitching to a remembering smile.

"I don't really know when he started to latch onto Dess. Doubt anyone but him does. I think he had a soft spot for her, though, 'cause she reminded him of Mom." I thought about how I'd begun to favor Lolly myself back then, although I hadn't known how we'd turn out.

"When did you start to like me?' she asked coyly. I sighed. How did I know that was coming? We glided over to the edge of the hole and I propped myself up on my elbows. Lolly threw her arms over the edge and rested her head in them.

"I dunno. I think I had a crush on you back then, which may or may not be why I ended up decking Darry right after you guys drove off." She burst out laughing, which cause Darry and Elle to look over from where they sat on the other side of the hole. "Hey, I'll have you know, Bit and Dally had their turns to, 'cept Darry hit Dally back 'cause he figured he could handle it."

"Ten years," Lolly murmured. "I can't believe we've been gone so long. It…it doesn't feel right, somehow." She suddenly looked at me. "Like, I missed a whole lifetime with you, and no one even knows it but me." I felt a sadness wash over me. That was what is was like,

wasn't it, to be gone from your friends and family? Then there returned an anger against Darry, who had been the cause of her feelings.

"I can't believe Darry would be so…damn him. It should've been your choice to go, not his," I said forcefully. Lolly bowed her head and grabbed one of my hands.

"Actually, Two-Bit and Mom both said I didn't have to go. But I knew Two-Bit wanted me to. He didn't want me to be ruined by this. But I wouldn't have been. I would've grown up like you and him." Her eyes flickered to mine. "You know, no matter what happened to you, I don't think you could've got mean. You're just not the kind to get bitter like that." I grinned. She was so sweet sometimes. I kissed her cheek, and then led her out to see if she would jump off the cliff, if I asked her real nice.

Darry's POV** (his thoughts will be in first person occasionally. In fact, just start accepting that they all will have times like this, unless marked differently.)**

The kids were all distracted by the idea of-oh!-water to swim in. They'd always loved the water, every single one of them, from the day I met them all until now. I sat with Elle on the edge, our legs trailing idly in the water.

"You know," she started tentatively, and I looked at her. "I think maybe it's time for you to go to college." She glanced at me quickly to see my reaction. In all honesty, I'd been thinking about doing it myself. I nodded. "Since you guys have royalty money from the book Pony wrote now, you've got more than enough money to go for a while. I think the gang'd be okay if we went together-like a holiday." She grabbed my hand and swung it back and forth.

"I'd like that. God knows I need a vacation. The boys could take care of themselves." Elle then frowned.

"Which reminds me. I want you to start giving Lolly a little more liberty. She's not your charge. She's Two-Bit's. Lordy, he might not be the best one, but he is. And, she's eighteen. You leave her alone." I smiled and laughed a little.

"Okay. I can't help it. I lead everything I can. It's my nature and all that." Now it was her turn to grin.

Elle hadn't been around long, but the whole gang was happy with her. Food was steadily improving around here, and Lolly and Dess in particular seemed to have taken to her as a mother/sister hybrid. Not to mention she had a quiet nature and seemed to know exactly what to say when I was annoyed. I was fighting less with Pony about random stuff, even less than before, when Soda had asked us to lay off a little. God, we actually acted like we loved each other lately. She distracted me from Dess and her…unruliness.

And college. Wow, I'd love to go. Really, I would. I'd probably just stay for a year or two, bet a bachelor's, but even going would be something I'd wanted to do all my life. My eyes flicked to the sky, as they tended to do when I needed help. Mom and Dad seemed to look down on me from all the bright stars there.

_Do you think I should go?_ I asked them, knowing it was unlikely that I'd get an answer, but still hoping for one, even though I was a self-proclaimed skeptic of ghosts and spirits and such. When nothing came, I laughed a little. Elle looked up form watching the various members of the gang becoming more and more like fish to scan my eyes.

"Did they answer?' she asked with a ghost of a smile, and I shook my head. She had this talent to read my thoughts better than anyone I knew, but it didn't bother me so much. I felt younger than ever, like I really had just recently turned twenty, instead of being that age since the day of the funeral. I took it as a sign that maybe things were starting to go north for once, instead of all south. College didn't seem so far away, especially when I looked into Elle's hopeful eyes. She didn't let our…predicament get her down. And her eyes were such a pretty green.

Then I pushed her in the water, having momentarily forgotten I was holding her hand, which resulted in both of us falling in, to the laughter of everyone, who had, it runed out, been watching us. As I shook the water out of my hair and wiped it out of my eyes, I saw flashlights bobbing up and down and heard people coming. Great. The party was really gonna get started now.

**

* * *

Hey. Hoped you liked this. It's the gang's little Christmas break, since it is in fact almost Christmas. This is mostly the boys' chapter, you know, to switch it up a little. I thought some lighthearted fun would make you less mad at me for the next half of the story. Let it be noted that this is projected to be about twenty-three chapters long, counting the epilogue. Review for me, friends. **

** Merreh Christmas from Tigress**


	13. Deep thinking from unusual minds

**I just realized I haven't been disclaimer-ing this story. So...I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS. I OWN DESS. THAT WILL BE ALL. That done, everyone read, enjoy and review.**

* * *

Chapter 12-Deep Thinking from Unusual Minds

**Steve**

I felt strangely cut off from the people here. There were close to sixty respective members of various gang affiliations here, doing various gangsterly things-a cop's Holy Grail. It was just real lucky a lot of 'em walked, because if they hadn't I don't think there was enough tree cover to hide that many cars. Still, even though I grinned and laughed and exchanged greetings and small talk with people I knew, I didn't feel any of it.

Somehow, I was losing myself. My life right now was doing what Tim Shepard told me to do, then going back for a little praise, a little more insight, and a few more instructions. I couldn't make myself feel happy again, or anything. It felt like the gang who'd helped me and fought beside me and whom I had seen cry-every single one of them, though Dally would tell you different-was becoming less real to me. They were just people of no consequence. And they'd hate me here in a few months when I helped tear their worlds apart.

But not feeling…it scared me. It was a Soc deal, to do things and pretend to like it when you really don't feel anything about it. How was I supposed to know? When was it real, and when was I just pretending it was? I didn't know this, I was a greaser. Greasers are tough. They stand for their gang before anyone else, even themselves. They feel harder than anyone else and use it to stay smart and alive and all that. It's what sets them apart. Hoods don't have honor, Socs can't feel, but the emotion is what it is. Ain't how we dress, although that's how it all started. Ain't how we talk, although it sure helps. It's what we feel, and now I _can't_ feel, which means I'm turning into what? A Soc.

I ain't rich, but I already said that don't matter. If we was rich, we'd still act like us. The richness wouldn't change us. We're greasers born and bred, and they're Socs. It's the way they act, and I was startin' to act a lot like one of 'em. Betraying my own gang. Hurting them for my own gain. It was such a selfish, _social_ thought. It was something a Soc would do. I stopped walking. What was this? Maybe I'd just figured something out. Maybe it wasn't the money, so much, that made us different. We were just different. It was _in us_. And God knows we can change. I was becoming what I hated. A Soc, but stranger, a Soc with no money. Figure that one out. I was about to ditch the party when I stumbled into a familiar face-someone I hadn't seen in ages, Rey Jacobson. I started talking to him, once again and as usual not feeling anything about what he was saying, when I heard some familiar names.

"…Sylvie and Evie."

"What was that?" I asked, my ears perking. Rey grinned; he knew I hadn't been listening.

"I said, those two have been asking around about you and Winston. I put Sylvie off real fast, told her about Dallas's new girl, but Evie doesn't know anything about you. Neither does anybody else. Everybody thinks you're dead or gone." I shook my head.

"Nope. Still here, by some miracle."

"Maybe you should get back together with Evie. Don't hate me for sayin', but you ain't actin' like you used to. Maybe seein' her again'll do you some good." He walked away, to have his attention caught again by someone in the hole. And that was when I decided I would blow the party. Hey, maybe I could get lucky and find Evie off clubbing somewhere. Either way, it sounded like she missed me, and getting back together with her might just be the way to get myself back on track. Whatever track that happened to be.



**Tim**

I threaded my way in and around the furniture and various pieces of trash that littered the floor. Contrary to what Lollypop and Soda might think, I _did_ have something else to do tonight. There'd been another party, but for what I don't know. All I know is that I _had_ to be there. But now it was over, and Lola was sleeping on the couch. I decided the sooner I did it, the less I'd have to deal with it later. I was about to wake her up and the thought occurred to me that I might regret this tomorrow. But then, I don't regret easily. So I shook it off and woke Lola.

Telling her was blunt and fast. No use beating around it. The "truth" was that I was tired of her being around and that we were through. It wasn't unusual-this was how I broke it off with girls all the time. She looked dazed and hopeless for a few seconds, but she was stronger than your average girl and was on her feet in a second.

"Wow. Six months and this is the thanks I get for being loyal," she shot venomously. "Well, fuck it." She was about to leave when another thing occurred to me. I grabbed her forearm tightly and spun her to look at me.

"And another thing. If you ever tell another soul-I don't care who-you and everyone you care about will have a living hell to deal with for the rest of your lives." She fixed me with a cool glare.

"Tell about what? There are a lot of things, Tim." I squeezed harder.

"I think you know." I let go of her arm and she bolted out the door. I stood there for a few seconds, making sure no one had woken, especially not Angie. She didn't need to know about this. Then I slipped into the kitchen, wincing at the sight of it.

The volume of empty beer cans had increased, only this time there were glass bottles mixed in, and the countertops were sticky with beer and who knows what else. I grabbed the phone and dialed a number I had memorized a long time ago.

"Valance residence. Sherry speaking.

"Cherry."

"Hello, Tim."

"I have news. You can start riling up your little group of followers."

"How much?"

"They could jump someone and get away with it, I think."

"Who do you want them to jump?" I had to think on that a little. Ponyboy was the obvious choice, he was so young. But like I said, it was obvious.

"I don't know. Pony is too obvious. He's also a cream puff; we might end up hurting him for real."

"We're _not_ jumping Pony, I refuse to." I smirked. My guess was right.

"Okay, how about Soda?"

"No! He never _did_ anything. Plus, if we did something irreversible to his face, the whole town would _hate us_!"

"Not true…okay, maybe it is. Got any better ideas?"

"There's always De-"

"No. Don't even go there. Jumping her defeats the point."

"Okay. And no one here is stupid enough to jump Dallas."

"True. Two-Bit?"

"No, that's too random."

"Yeah it is. And as for Darryl…well, I think that might be a physical impossibility."

"Yup. Who else _is_ there?"

"Steve."

"Your informant?"

"Yes. It'll do perfectly. He can't think this little war with the Socs is my fault. And he's small enough for them to do some damage."

"I can have them ready to kill the next greaser they see in two, maybe three weeks. I have to make sure they jump _Steve_, though, and not someone else."

"I think you can do it. Just be careful." With that, I hung up. It was pure luck Cherry had picked up the phone, but, then, who else would be calling this late at night? Satisfied that my work was done, I trudged back upstairs to my room, which was always locked. Then it hit me why I might feel regretful-I'd just lost my connection with Elle. I could no longer influence her from afar and make _sure_ Darry got to college. It wasn't her alone who'd gotten the idea to send Darry to college-she didn't know anything about my plan- I'd just been using her and planting the idea in her head.

All I could do now was hope Elle had gotten the idea across nicely. Damn, I knew there was going to be _something_. There's always _something_.



**Dally**

Tired. Real, _real_ tired. Playing chicken for an hour and a half straight is probably one of the stupidest things I've ever done. Ever. Except maybe that time I tried to ride with my left hand roped instead of my right. But it's right up there. I hauled myself onto the bank of the hole and lay flat on my back, breathing heavily. Dess, still happy and smiling and…_stuff_, crawled out and _sat on me_, so I had to push her off and throw her in the hole again before I could breathe properly.

"Damn. You. You're _heavy _Dess! How much do you weigh?" She sat cross-legged beside me and ran her hands absently over the rough rock.

"I dunno. I haven't weighed myself in a while. How much are you used to carrying?"

"Eighty, ninety pounds?" I panted, propping myself up on one arm.

"I weigh more than that. Maybe a little. Like, ten pounds. Or maybe twenty."

"No more chicken, okay?" Dess smirked airily.

"What, the super-ass kickin' bull rider of owning people at chicken can't take carrying around his own girlfriend?"

"No. No, he can't. What did you just call me? Super ass-kickin' who?"

"Bull rider of owning people at chicken."

"How did you know I rode bulls?"

"A; it seemed like something you'd do, B; Pony told me. He told me a lot of other things, too." I frowned.

"Like what?"

"Stuff…"

"Dess…"

"Nothing I didn't already know, okay? Just…in a little more detail than I would've liked."

"What, specifically?" She was avoiding my eyes, which bugged me. Eye contact was important to me, especially with Dess. Sometimes I screwed up what people meant if all I had to go on was voice. "Dess, what's the deal? I'm not gonna get angry at you or anything."

"He told me about Sylvie and Cherry and the night Johnny died and the time you got stomped by a bull and horse racing and just about everything you won't tell me. Don't kill him, I pressed it out of him anyways." I felt myself close, but forced it to stop. She was looking at me now, with uncertainty painted across her eyes and mouth.

"How come you didn't come to me to find all that stuff out?"

"'Cause you wouldn't have told me. You woulda just ignored it, or, if I forced you to tell me, you woulda been mad at me for doing it." I sighed. Whatever else I tried to pretend, she knew me inside and out.

"Okay. That's most likely true. Anything else you want to know, since we're here anyway?" She looked down.

"Don't eat me when I ask you this, but why by gun? Why did you want to die like that?" I frowned, but more out of confusion than anger.

"Why?" She shrugged.

"I dunno. I've always wanted to know."

"I guess it's because it would be fast. Painless-well, almost, if it would've worked. And-I knew guns. Very well. I'd been carrying one for almost a year by then. I knew how to clean it, load it, take off the safety and shoot it and hit the target. It felt like a friendly animal. Like, there was no way it could ever really kill me."

"Whatever happened to that gun?"

"Police took it off me. Same with Bit's blade. I assume they re-cataloged it and put it to good use. Tim never got busted for trafficking it, I know that. I didn't really want to die, you know that?" I'd never told anyone that, but it was true.

"Why would you go and get yourself shot if you really didn't want to die?"

"I don't know. I don't know how I work. But, I think that's why I ran away from the cops, instead of standing them down and giving them a _real_ reason to shoot me. Even then, I was running away from it. I realized right after they shot me that I didn't want to die. I had a lot more to live for. I mean, I got it better than Johnny, I made it out of this damn city. But still. Seventeen is real young to die, even for someone who knew more than life wanted him to." After my little speech, Dess was quiet for a long time.

"Do you ever think that maybe you lived for a reason? I mean, anyone would say that Johnny deserved it better than you, a second chance at life. Anyone who didn't know you, that is."

"No," I replied, because it felt important that we got this straight. "Even some of the gang probably thought that. I think Pony hated me for a while there. It was like, 'Why should you get to live? What did _you_ do to deserve it?'"

"He got over that, though."

"Yeah, but it doesn't change that fact that he felt it. I don't blame him, though. But, to answer your question, yes. I think I did live for a reason, but I don't pretend to know what it is, and I don't think I'd get another chance if I tried that stunt again."

"Tell me how you got hurt bull riding." I grinned and shook my head. Sometimes, Dess was so random it even confused me and Two-Bit.

"Why in God's name would you want to hear about _that_?"

"'Cause…I don't know. It seems like a very humbling story. I'd enjoy it. Please?" she wheedled, flashing me The Eyes. You know, _The Eyes_. The dreaded Eyes.

"Fine! The bull was called Blueberry Wine, and was he ever the _fugliest _thing I have ever seen. He gave Darry a run for his money. Don't tell him I said that. And glory, but he was big. Six-hundred pounds of pure hatred…and snot."

"Snot?"

"Yes, snot. There was a lot of it, if memory serves me. So I jump in the chute, and the guys around it are holding ropes. I say, 'What are those ropes for?' and one of the guys goes, 'To hold him down so he don't jump the chute and hurt himself…or you.' And I go, well, _shit_, 'cause every time they've ever used ropes on a bull, somebody's been hurt. But here comes Two-Bit, out of nowhere, to tell me that the whole gang was here and so was Sylvie, so I'd better not screw up. No pressure." Dess laughed, interrupting the story.

"That sounds a lot like something he'd do."

"I thought so too, at the time. So they get me all ready and hand me the end of the collar rope, and I start wrapping it tight and hit it a few times 'cause that's good luck in the business, and we're ready to go. Seven point three-zero seconds later, I'm on the ground. Enjoying the taste of cow crap and dirt. I sit up and I'm seeing stars, and I can hear the announcer saying they have to review my time and all that great stuff. I'm hurtin' everywhere but I ain't gonna show it and then I hear shoutin' and stuff like crazy so I look to my right and here comes an effing _bull_, about ready to run a horn through my ass. The rodeo clowns, which, by the way, aren't so bad once the makeup's off, are runnin' behind the bull, but c'mon, it's a _bull._

"So I start runnin' away from it, 'cept I couldn't use my legs quite yet so I fall down and the son of a cow stepped on me an' broke my arm an' two ribs. 'N fronta my gang an' my girlfriend an' everybody. I stopped riding after that and started jockeying. It was about two years after Soda tore his ligament. I think we was fourteen or fifteen."

"And you're completely fine?"

"'Cept for a little scar. Right there. I pointed to a spot on the left side of my chest, right over the fifth rib, where there was a faintly raised white line shaped like a moon. Or a hoof. A sharp, painful, dirt-covered hoof. Whatever floats yer boat. Dess looked at me again, funny.

"You know, you're probably the only person I know, besides maybe Pony, who wouldn't glorify a bull stomping on them to their girlfriend."

"But I'm already so glorified. Look, want me to prove it?" I grabbed a random kid, making sure he was young and impressionable-like. I put on an angry voice.

"Hey. I'm '_The Dallas Winston_.' How do you feel about that?"

"Afraid. Very afraid. I didn't do it, I swear."

"Didn't do what?"

"I dunno, I just didn't. Can I go now?" I grinned, which confused the kid.

"Sure. Don't go gettin' into any trouble you can't dig yourself out of without a shovel. They rarely give you those in prison." Once the kid had stumbled off, I flicked imaginary dirt off my shoulders. "Bask in my glory," I said airily, looking down my nose at Dess, who kicked me in the backs of the knees. I went sprawling, and, having thrown myself against solid rock, found that was both painful and cold.

"Okay, that was both painful and cold," I muttered, delicately scraping myself up off the rock. "Let's go home." Right on cue, Darry's voice rang out over the crowd.

"Hey, Soda! Dallas! Pack it in, we gotta get home!" I helped Dess up, found my clothes (**A/N: his shirt and jacket, for those of you who forgot he'd been swimming (Ari)**), helped her find hers, and we were off and running to beat the rest of the gang to the car. Cars. Plural car, because once we got to where everything was parked, we saw that the number of cars had multiplied to…a very large number.

"The 'Bird and the pickup had babies!" Two-Bit yelled, throwing his arms out across Darry's truck's hood.

"Idiot," we all said in unison, shaking our heads.

"Hey, did you end up getting Lola's phone number?" Soda asked. Two-Bit grinned.

"I did. She didn't even see what was coming to her, and she didn't even have to think about it."

"Look out Sod, somebody's movin' in on your ladykillin' glory," Pony grinned, and Soda took a cheap shot at Two-Bit. I hopped the window of my car and slipped the keys into the ignition…or wait. I reached into my back pocket again and pulled out…no keys. I checked the pockets of my jacket. No keys.

"Guys, did one of you take my keys?" I yelled, looking around for suspicious behavior.

"No."

"Nope."

"Sorry."

"I can't drive a stick."

"Why would I want to drive _your_ car?" The last one was obviously Soda. I didn't know Steve couldn't drive stick. Ha. I had found his weakness.

"Darry? _You _didn't answer me."

"I said no."

"Oh." I just sat there as my load piled into my keyless car.

"Dal, are you serious? You _really_ don't have your keys?" Soda asked, leaning forward.

"They were in my pocket when I dove in," I replied.

"Which pocket?"

"Jacket."

"Somebody probably stole 'em."

"Who, though?"

"Somebody smart enough to know 'Bird keys when he sees them, but stupid enough to not know Buck Merrill's stolen 'Bird when he sees it."

"I didn't _steal _it. God, we've been over this-wait. Dess. Give me my keys." Dess, who was sitting right next to me and hadn't said a word this whole keyhunt, looked at me in surprise.

"Huh?"

"My keys. We gotta get home. Don't make me do something you'll regret."

"Something _I'll_ regret?"

"I'm Dallas Winston, I regret nothing. You, on the other hand, could very easily regret many, many things." Everyone was quiet.

"I think you better do what he says, Dess," Lolly whispered. Dess looked me straight in the eyes.

"Dallas. I. _Do not_. Have your keys. Wherever they are, you better start lookin', 'cause they ain't here." My hand slid off the steering wheel.

"You're kidding me."

"No."

"All right guys. We're not going anywhere until I find my keys, so whoever's got 'em can go ahead and give 'em up now."

"But I don't have your keys, Dallas," Two-Bit commented from the back, sounding girlish and confused. I looked in the rearview and bit my hand to keep from laughing. He was making a horrendous face that was supposed to be…I can't even imagine what would resemble that face, sorry.

"Ach! Damn you Two-Bit, you see the things you make me do?"

"What?"

"I bit myself."

"C'mon Dally; we all know you think I'm hot. There's no use pretending." Soda snorted and Lolly and Dess burst out laughing. Just then someone ran up to the car. The top was down like I usually left it in the summer, but it was dark and I couldn't see.

"Hey Dallas." But glory, did I recognize the voice.

"Somebody go get Dally's leash. Sylvie's here," Two-Bit murmured, which resulted in more laughter and a well-placed backhand from the driver.

"Hi. Can I help you, or are you here to help me?" I asked, thinking about the missing keys.

"Well, when you put it that way…" I recognized the tone of her voice and cut her off.

"Okay, none of that." She huffed a little, but reached into the bundle she was carrying.

"Here. Jack found these on the ground after you left and recognized the 'Bird's keys. Figured you'll be needin' 'em." She dropped them into my outstretched hand and backed up as I gratefully shoved the keys into the ignition and praised glory when the car started. There was cheering from inside Darryl's pickup as they, too, started their car.

"Thanks, Sylvie." It killed me to say it, but there ya go. I'm a peach. Laugh your ass off now.

"Anytime, Dallas, anytime." She threw me a grin in the light of the headlights and then she turned and walked back into the woods.

"Did I hit Two-Bit?" I asked as I settled into driving.

"Righ in th' dose," was the stifled reply.

"What was that about leashes?" Lolly asked.

"Nothin. Two-Bit bein' a smartass," I replied, but Two-Bit and Soda piped up, as usual, where they weren't needed.

"Dally used to be her dog."

"All she had to do was snap her fingers, and here come old Dally-"

"-No matter what state their relationship was in."

"And she thinks she can still get him to come when she calls."

"Chain around his neck's still a little tight."

"But you can't chew through chain," Soda finished, sounding mock regretful. Dess and Lolly were trying to be nice and hold back their laughter.

"Oh, but she _owned_ that boy," Soda crowed.

"You guys shoulda seen it," Two-Bit continued. "Well, Dess, maybe not you. You woulda thought it was downright pathetic."

"Alright, that's enough," I said irritably, putting enough authority in my voice to make Two-Bit shut up. If there was one thing me and Darry could agree on, it was the best way to make Two-Bit stop talking.



**Lolly**

Nothing exciting happened for another week and a half after the random swimming hole trip. Lately, it seemed as though thrills-or any action, for that matter-were few and far between. Finally, when something did happen, it wasn't much. I was hanging out at the DX with Dess and Dallas, Soda and Steve. Two-Bit had recently acquired a job to help mom now that I was home, but as to what he did, don't ask me. It was a slow day and the boss was out, seeing as his two new co-managers were trusted above everyone else. Which meant the place was in total disarray. First off, we decided it was too hot inside the store, so we opened all the freezers and propped them open with bags of food. Oh, wait, I'm sorry. Did I say _we_? I meant, everyone but me. I was trying to get them to realize that, not only was it _stupid_, it probably wouldn't work.

Then I got into an argument with Soda about the probability of it actually working, and I ended up giving in because I was getting a headache. After that we got into another argument, pertaining to this: Coke. And Mentos. Both things were in fact _in_ the store. We finally decided to test the theory with said Coke and Mentos. Needless to say, it totally works. Then some guy came into the garage, and Steve and Soda had to go work on his car. So me and Dess and Dallas had a Mento war that ended when Dallas slipped in a puddle of Coke and knocked over a few stands of stuff and whacked his head on the ground. Oh, did you know, Coke is really, really bad for the hair of someone that blond? His hair'll be kinda dishwater-blond for a while, or at least until he takes a shower. We mopped the floor after our war and then we were all sitting on top of the counter, drinking Pepsi and shooting straw wrappers at each other, when Dess had the Big Idea.

"Damn, that wasn't fair, my straw's all wet!"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means I can't fire!"

"Like that's my problem."

"Guys, shut up, I just had an idea." Dallas and I looked away from glaring at each other.

"I don't know what you see in him, I don't like him at all."

"Liar."

"Why would I lie?"

"I said shut up. _I have an idea_."

"Well, what is it?" I looked at Dess expectantly.

"_You_ should get a job _here_." I blinked.

"You know, that's actually not such a bad idea."

"Um, it's also _random as shit_. Really, it's not that bad, though." Soda walked in the room just then, wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

"What's so random it requires cussing in my gas station?"

"I want Lolly to get a job here. DO IT NOW." Soda blinked.

"Well, aside from the fact that I don't own this place, I think we could get her a job here. Do you _want_ a job, Loll?" I shrugged.

"Maybe. It'd be something to do."

"It would also be…let's see here…_just like what we do everyday_ only, maybe you'd get paid for it," Steve added, rolling his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Dallas asked, looking offended. "We don't bum around here _every_ day. Only _some_ days."

"Count on your left hand how many times you haven't been here this week," Steve commanded. "I bet you ten bucks you could do it."

"Yeah, but I don't have ten bucks. So ha."

"What happened to all that prize money you just won a few months ago?"

"Prize money from what?" I asked, and Dess's ears perked at the mention of 'money' being directed at Dallas.

"Horse race," Dallas mumbled. "And I blew it all. Prosper wasn't free."

"Ah. Let me get this straight, you blew it all on your girlfriend's cat. Oh how low you have sunken, Dallas Winston."

"Shut up. I have another race coming up soon. Prize is three hundred dollars."

"Weird that just so happens to be the amount our grandma sent Dess," Soda pointed out. We all looked at him.

"_Weird_ you'd say that."

"So, explain to me _why_ the station is a complete mess when our boss is due back in about two seconds?" Steve piped out of nowhere. Soda's head slowly turned to look at the clock. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"_No shit_," Soda murmured. His eyes were now on the door. It was opening. And in…walked Soda's boss.

**

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**

Done for now. Sorry it took me a while to update, I've been out of the country. Hope everyone had a good Christmas & New Years. Everyone review, or else Soda and Steve and Lolly and Dess and Dally will die! Or at least get fired! Rawr. Review. I'll try to update soon.

PS-I'm now beta-ing a friend's story. Everyone, if you like Twilight, by Stephanie Meyer, I suggest you check it out. She just started it, and it has nothing to do with Ed&Bell. It's called "Those who Change Live" by Flustered Vampire. 

**- Tigress-san**


	14. Goodbye, Darr

**I am SO sorry. That last chapter…WAS CRAP. Forgive me. I'd been on vacation and just kicked it out and right when I posted it I realized that I got nothing done in it. I'm gonna leave it the way it is for now; maybe fix it at the end of the story. But here's your Very Important Chapter. I hope it makes up for the drabble in the last one…**

* * *

Chapter 13- Goodbye, Darr…

**Soda**

Our boss walked through the door, saw the open freezer doors and the still-drying floor and all the empty Mento wrappers and Coke bottles, and the more recent straw wrappers. Dess, Dally, and Lolly were frozen solid, with big old eyes that said they were still trying to decide whether to run or stick it out. And, here's the thing, the boss, Dean Gruss, bursts out laughing. He just started yuking it up, and Dally's jaw dropped about four inches. He looked at us and blinked.

"What the –_censorcensor! -_ just happened?" Steve started laughing, too.

"I told you that he was coming back, not that we'd get in trouble!"

"Gruss loves us, don'tcha Gruss?" I asked, cracking a smile.

"I've got to admit, you two are the best mechanics I've ever had…they can get away with just about everything," he added, glancing at our confused companions. "Dean K. Gruss. Good to meet you all," Dean said, waltzing up to the counter like…he owned the place…and shook hands with the three in turn. "You," he said, looking at Lolly. I saw her blush. "Are Soda's girlfriend, Lolly."

"How do you know that?"

"The boy never shuts up about you." He looked at Dess. "You're his sister, Dess." Dess nodded, and his gaze came to rest on Dally. "And you, son, are trouble walking." Dally broke into a wild, mischievous smirk.

"I think you got me mixed up with someone else. I ain't never caused trouble _once_."

"Note the true meaning of the double negative," Lolly muttered darkly.

"No, I think…yes, blond, blue-eyed, unusually menacing… I believe that's you. Dallas Winston."

"Can't deny facts," he relented. Dean looked at the two of us.

"I believe there is a cleanup in order," he said, steepling his fingers. We all leapt up and ran wildly around the one-room station, shutting freezer doors and putting things away, then picking up straws and such off the floor. We even went so far as to blow-dry the floors, but Dean said that was probably not needed.

"Did you boys get _anything_ done?" he asked.

"We did!" Steve defended proudly.

"We did two cars, proved that Coke and Mentos _do_ explode when combined, recruited a new worker, and discovered the farthest you can shoot a straw wrapper without resorting to cheating!"

"_And_," Lolly added, looking around her and picking something up off the floor. "As if that's not enough, we found a Cheez Puff that looks _exactly like Jesus_!" Dean sounded impressed at our holy cheese by-product and ambled over to inspect it.

"I see your point, but if you looked at it like _this-_" He rotated the Puff in Lolly's fingers. "It actually looks more like a poodle, and isn't worth much because of that." We all groaned. We'd gone through a lot of Cheez for that.

"What's this about a new worker?"

"If you don't mind girls, that is," Lolly added self-consciously. I smiled at her. Dean shook his head.

"Of course not! Lolly, are you looking for a job opening?"

"Actually, yes," she told him, straightening. "I wouldn't mind doing some minor mechanic work. I'm not as good as Steve or Soda, of course! But I can do _some_ work on cars." Dean looked surprised, but I wasn't. Lolly had been hanging around the garage a lot lately. I expected it would lead to something like this.

"I see…well, I have no objections. Girls can work on cars. Pigs can fly." His eyes glimmered with laughter as he said it, and we shared a laugh. Dean was -and always had been- a tuff boss. He had no kids or wife, so we were like his replacement children. We _did_ tend to get away with a lot. He had a soft spot for us, and didn't mind letting us off early, and, this is the most vivid thing I remember about him, he gave me two full, paid weeks off back when I was still working part-time, when mom and dad died. Me and Steve together brought in plenty enough money to make up for it.

"When can I start?" Lolly asked eagerly. She always felt like she was under Darry's skin, eating our food and using our water and stuff and not being able to pay for it. Even though Darry would never accept board money from a friend. Lolly was just like that. Dean glanced at the clock above the counter, and for the first time in ages, I did, too. To my surprise, it was already five.

"Well, seeing as none of you probably want to go overtime-"

"NO!"

"As I thought. Anyway, you can start on Monday, if that works for you." It was a Saturday, and since everything was closed on Sunday, Monday was the next day we'd be working. "Soda, Steve, checks," Dean ordered, and we trotted off to collect our great big WADS of money. Which was more like about a hundred dollars-not exactly a WAD, but just shut up and cut me some slack.

He shook our hands like he always did, wished us a good weekend, and sent us on our way. We walked back home-nothing eventful happened, though it was extremely hot and even Lolly was cursing being forced to wear pants by the time we got home.

**Lolly**

Sunday afternoon was cooler than Saturday, but then, so was the surface of the sun. Dess and I made a little trip-one we rarely made. A trip to the hair salon.

Both of us were beginning to get frustrated with our long hair. It was hot and sweaty wearing in the middle of June. However, Dess wasn't planning on anything nearly as drastic as me…

Once at the salon, one of the two in Tulsa, the one more greaser girls hung out at, we paid our money and a girl, Angie, who looked barely older than us, lead us to two barber's chairs. Another girl, Monica, stood in front of me while Angie went to Dess. Neither looked familiar, though when Dess and Angie started talking, Angie muttered, "You sound familiar."

"You do, too. What's your last name?"

"Shepard. Angie Shepard."

"I knew it!"

"You're the girl I talked to on the phone a while back. You thought I was Sylvie!" I had no idea what they were talking about, but my attention was focused to other things when Monica asked me how I wanted my hair.

"Um…very short. Layered, sort of. To about the bottom of my ear in front, but it can go down to a little past my neck farther back." Monica pondered the style and nodded.

"I think I can do that." She took a spray bottle to my hair, but didn't use much, since it was already straight. She was pretty good, and I watched absently as my dark blond hair fell to the floor. Occasionally, she would ask for my guidance so it looked the way I wanted it, and I got the impression that she was new. Finally, just as I was beginning to lose feeling in my butt, she spun me around, wiped all the fallen hair off, and let me see myself in the mirror. I blinked. It was just the way I wanted it-wasn't short enough to be a guy's cut, even a greaser's, but it was short enough that it would stay out of trouble with oil trays and moving parts. And, it'd done a few things I hadn't expected, like framed my face and made my eyes look bigger.

"Do you like it?" Monica asked nervously. "Is it too short?"

"No," I assured her. "It's perfect." I hopped off the stool, tipped Monica for doing such a great job, and then looked around behind me for Dess. Hmmm…she wasn't in the barber's chair nearest me.

Then I spotted her sitting by the window, looking out of it in a daydreaming manner. I smiled.

"Wow. Did it really take that long to get my hair done?" She shook her head. She'd had her long, coffee-brown hair cut to her shoulders and styled into choppy, obvious layers.

"No. Mine didn't take very long at all. Angela Shepard is good with hair. Do I look okay?"

"Of course. Do I?" She thought a moment. I knew she was going to have to think about it. This was the first time I'd had it cut short in…ever.

"You look different. But a good different. It suits you better now than long hair did." I frowned.

"Elaborate, short person."

"You were always so _proper_, it seemed like long hair fit you. But now, you've changed. It makes sense that your hair should be more outgoing to." Yup, that's Dess Curtis over there. The one that treats hair like something alive.

"C'mon, we better get home." Dess shrugged and hopped out of the chair she was sitting in. We walked outside, still trying to get used to our new hair. It felt like someone had taken four pounds off the top of my head. We got a few stares-hairstyles were getting shorter and shorter every day, but not this short quite yet. But then, when have we _ever_ conformed? There weren't any problems coming home, other than the fact that it was hot. The heat was starting to get annoying, it had been for a long time, even if the boys continued to defy temperature and wear jeans.

Walking back into the house was like walking into an icebox, happily. We didn't have air-conditioning, but we kept the doors open and used fans-it was at least a _little _colder in here. Everybody was spread out, drooping over the couch and chairs. Soda lifted his head off the armrest of the couch-he'd been sleeping.

"Where've you two been?" he asked. Then he made a puzzled face, blinked a few times, and said, "Hey! What did you _do_ to your hair?" Darry, Two-Bit and Dally looked up now, too. Jaws dropped.

"Holy shit!" We looked at each other and grinned.

"I thought I'd better get a shorter hairstyle if I'm going to start working on cars. Dess came along. Like it?" Soda frowned.

"I liked your hair better long."

"Well, now you're going to like it short."

**Dess**

It took almost three days for the boys to get used to our new hair. Really, I didn't see what the big deal was. We got hot. We assumed our hair was the problem. We got it hacked off. We even told them we were gonna do it, cause they woulda gone ballistic if we hadn't. And yet, Dally still frowned in frustration every time he tried to run his fingers through it and found that he had considerably less to work with.

Even Prosper missed having my long hair to bat around, but like Lolly said, they'd just have to learn to deal. They'd never had hair down to their backs, which meant they didn't even know. Well, Prosper had, but that's not the point. Monday morning, Lolly woke me early and said that I had to get ready with her. It took me a moment to remember that today was Dally's first race of the season _and_ it was Lolly's first day at work. And then… I groaned.

"Are you gonna hate me if I go watch Dally race?" I asked. She shook her head and grinned at me. We were in the kitchen. It was roughly five, and we hadn't turned on any lights, so we wouldn't wake the boys. I was sitting on top of the counter, she had a chair flipped around and was sitting on it backwards, a mug of coffee in her grasp. Prop-that's Prosper, it's his nickname- was laying on her foot and staring up and the two of us, half asleep.

"No. I'm a big girl, Dess. Soda and Steve will be there." She glanced at me, hoping maybe I wouldn't notice the slip in her voice when she said 'Steve'.

"Loll, you want my professional opinion?" She shook her head animatedly, I chuckled and continued. "I don't think anything's gonna happen. I mean, look at us! We're in a house…fed…dating two _gorgeous_ hoods…well, one of us is." It had just occurred to me that Soda was my brother, and it seemed wrong to call him gorgeous. Lolly fixed me with a serious stare.

"That don't mean we can let our guard down, Dess. I think something's about to happen that will change our lives forever."

"Yay. Maybe Soda will propose or summat."

"Maybe you're pregnant." It was my turn to death stare.

"You are _terrible_. First off, age sev-damn-_eight_een is _way_ too young, second off; if Darry heard you say that…he'd destroy us all." But we were both smiling by the end of my sentence, the seriousness of a moment ago forgotten.

"Okay, all screwin' aside, don't feel bad. You love Dallas…you love horses…it should be paradise."

((fast forward…everything that happens between then and the race is boring…))

**Dally**

I showed Dess around the yard at the race track. Everyone around here knew me, and they knew to stay clear, so seeing me with an arm around Dess must have been confusing. We got a lot of stares. There were about twenty minutes before the race when I decided to start making my way toward weigh-in. I stepped on the scale and put my hands in my pockets. I'd never been worried much about making weight-weight was a lot more flexible around here. The circuit Slash J raced on was just for Oklahoma, Nebraska, and Kansas, so weights were pretty much just a petty allowance. Basically, if you're under a hundred and fifty-five pounds, you're in, and I'd never weighed that much before in my life.

"Hundred and forty-two. Name?"

"Winston, Dallas, for Slash J."

"Mount?" Dess looked up from where she sat across the room, and her eyes met mine. I smirked self-confidently. I hadn't lost a race yet on this mount, and the name showed it.

"Any Victory Accepted," I replied, turning my back on Dess to pull my race ID out of my pocket and place it in the stewardess's hand. I stalked back to Dess, offered her my hand, and we continued walking down the long, concrete hall.

"Ready to meet my charge?" I asked, shoving my hair out of my eyes for about the millionth time today. Maybe Dess wasn't the only one who needed a haircut lately.

"Is he an ass, like you?"

"Actually, he might be more of an ass than me. See, no one's ever been able to ride him…and win. Till now. We understand each other." I said it like it was nothing, which it wasn't. The horse acted a lot like me. We were like…brothers. Or something.

"I'm sure I'll get along fine. Horses like me." I didn't really know how Vic would get along with Dess. Usually, he was a complete demon to anyone but me and sometimes Jay himself, but Dess_ had_ worked miracles on _me_…

Vic's stall was easy to find. It was the one he was usually in. I knocked my knuckles against the frame of the door.

"Vic, behave, I brought a lady today," I warned, sliding the bolt back and going inside. Naturally, Vic was inside, feigning sleep. "Cheater," I scoffed, noting the way his ears flickered from me to the stall door when Dess came in behind me, bolting it securely.

"Is…?"

"He."

"Is he asleep?"

"Nah. He's bein' a smartass."

"More smart than ass, I'd say," she murmured, kneeling in the bedding and sweeping the horse's black forelock off his forehead. He opened his eyes and stared at her, blowing out and managing to look very annoyed. She laughed. "I can see how you two get along," she said, replacing the hair and glancing at me. "Neither of you like it when people touch your hair." Naturally, I ran a hand through my hair self-consciously. Vic tucked his legs under him and stood to his full height-16 hands.

He was totally black, except for a small, round spot about the size of a quarter under his mane. That was snowy white. His ears moved all sorts of directions and he looked at me-all confused about who this girl was and why she was here. I just laughed.

"Go get his tack for me, wouldja?" I asked Dess, motioning down the hall to the tack room. "It's all marked with his name. There'll be a bridle with a bit, a saddle, and his silks. Careful with his saddle, it's gonna be heavy."

"_Yes_, masta. I will be back shortly with the black devil's things." She made an over-accentuated bow as she sidled out of the stall. I turned my attention to my horse. Ran my hands down his legs, checked his eyes, brushed him down, did everything a good jockey would do.

Let's get one thing straight right now, huh? This is how I learned to ride. Once, when I was still a kid, I got sent to one of those reform camps where they teach kids how to ride and take care of a horse and such. Much to my surprise, I could ride pretty well. Dealing with animals appealed more to me than dealing with people, so when I got old enough, I started looking to jockey, and here I am. Well, technically, I tried my hand at bull riding first, then I got employed with Slash J. No one knows that. I guarantee it. They never did ask any questions when I told them I'd be jockeying.

Races were few and far between around here. Technically, I was Jay's best jockey, hands down, but I didn't do the public circuit where I'd travel and all that because I didn't have the money to do it. My next race wouldn't be for another two, two and a half months. I tried to enjoy it when I could.

I was finishing checking Vic's hooves when Dess came back, arms full of tack.

"Alright, I can take care of the head," she told me, throwing me the saddle. She hung the racing silks on the door, not letting them touch the floor. Smart girl.

"Are you sure? He might bite…"

"Nah, I can take care of him. I've ridden and tacked before, don't worry. I've just never used a racing saddle, so you might as well do that yourself." I nodded and proceeded to do just that. We had him tacked up pretty quick, and Dess was right. She got him to accept a bit faster than I ever had.

"How did you _do_ that?" I asked, watching her rub his forehead.

"Do what?"

"Make him take the bit?"

"Oh, that. I put it in front of his mouth and he took it."

"Ah-mazing."

"No, I think he's just a ladies man. You'd understand that." I shrugged, and the call for jockeys to suit up came. I squeezed Dess hard.

"I would. There's my bell, I gotta get ready."

"Okay."

"Here." I pulled another copy of my race info out of my back pocket and gave it to her. "Show this to the guys in the red uniforms. That'll get you into the VIP box. It should be Alexander Jay, my boss, and his family. No one else is racing today. Just tell them Dally sent you." I kissed her quickly on the cheek and watched her run down to where the public seating was, then I turned back to Vic.

"Alright, big guy. Let's go win. We got spectators." And, as usual, my scary-smart horse nodded his head up and down, almost as though he understood. I dressed him up, then went to the locker room to do the same.

After that, I mounted, warmed up, and then another bell chimed, signaling it was time for me to go to the start blocks. The announcement was music to my ears…

_"Today ladies and gentlemen, we have a fine lineup, including…and lastly, number 14, Any Victory Accepted, jockeyed today by Dallas Winston…"_

**Darry**

Elle was home when I came for lunch. She seemed to enjoy it here alone, even though I told her I wouldn't mind fixing my own lunch if she wanted to do something.

"No," she told me, after a hug and kiss hello, "I like being home alone. It gives me so much time to go through everyone's stuff." I tensed, and she laughed. "Kidding. Lighten up a little. Work was?"

"Work," I replied shortly. "How could you expect me to like it? I've got other things I wish I could be doing."

"Like?"

"Spending time with my family. Anything but work." She must have seen my eyes cloud, because she snapped me out of my depressed moment and distracted me with food and talk.

"I got groceries. Used my own money, and before you say it, no, I will not use yours. My money was there, it's just sitting around. I might as well use it for _something_.

"Dess told me to tell you, she'll be out all day. The race probably got over about a half an hour ago, but she and Dallas are taking the whole day."

"What are they doing?"

"I don't know, I prefer to think they can be trusted alone. They'll come home with Soda and Lolly."

"I see."

"Oh, have you had any time to think about…?" She left the question unfinished, but I knew what she was talking about.

"College. As a matter of fact, I have. I sent a letter to UO. They've already replied. I still have an open-door scholarship for a year of schooling, if I want it. I have to be there and settled in by June thirteenth." Elle frowned, like I knew she would. The date was a little more than two weeks away. If I was going, I needed to decide now and tell the gang, soon. "I think they can handle it, if we tell them nicely," I mused aloud, taking Elle's hand idly and playing with her fingers.

"They can. They're big kids now, whether you like it or not. They can take care of themselves." We were silent for a while, and I finally decided to talk to her about something that had been on my mind all weekend.

"Your little sister is dating Two-Bit."

"I know. I've seen her around."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I think that if this all works out decently, we're all going to be dangerously close to intermarriage." We laughed, but then a cloud passed over Elle's face. "But seriously, I'm glad she finally got away from Tim. He's good looking, and a charmer, too, but there was something about him…he wasn't too nice to Lola, I don't think."

"Tim's mixed up in a lot of stuff," I told her solemnly. "It's probably a good thing she got away from him. From what I've seen, Lola's a good girl. Better than Tim."

"What about Two-Bit?" I put a hand to my face. I knew this was coming.

"Two-Bit…is another case entirely. Promise to help me tell them?"

"I will. You've only got another two weeks. You'd better tell them tonight."

"I plan on it." I suddenly looked at Elle, feeling the urge to tell her something pretty random. "You know, I think I should thank you."

"Why?"

"Because, before you came, I always _dreamed_ of going to college, but I never really took it seriously. Now, you're making me go. In a good way. Like, you're motivating me."

"Aw, thanks. Eat. You don't have much time in an hour." I grinned like a schoolkid and obliged her. Man, I gotta say, that was some of the tastiest obliging I'd ever done.

**Soda**

Darry called a gang meeting that night. We were all in the room, but when he said he had something to say, did we ever stop doing what we were doing.

Steve and I stopped arm-wrestling all at once. We could tell by the sound of Darry's voice that this was no time for dirty tricks. Dally, Lolly, Dess, and Pony put down their hands of poker and moved from the dining room into the living room. Two-Bit shut off the TV and Elle came in from the kitchen to sit next to Darry. The hair on the back of my neck rose. We were all in a happy mood because Dallas had won his race and been paid, but that quickly faded. There was something serious about to be said.

"Okay, guys, the good news is, no one's dead," Darry said drily. "Y'all can stop lookin' at me like the Grim Reaper is behind me, cause I checked 'fore I sat down. I just want to tell you all…I'm going to go to college in Oklahoma City." Jaws dropped.

"What?" Pony asked in an awestruck voice.

"Darry decided that, since, most of you are working now, it would be okay if he went to college. He's got a year's worth scholarship, so he might as well use it.

"That's great, Darr," Dess piped up, smiling widely. "God, I hoped you'd get to do this." That seemed to break everyone out of their shell-shocked state. We all started laughing and joking and congratulating him.

"So," Pony asked, tapping Darry on the shoulder. "When are you leaving?" Darry shot a look at Elle, who bit her lip.

"We're leaving next week," Darry replied. "Soda, little buddy, you're gonna have to lead for me," he said, making a weak attempt at a joke. I could feel all eyes on me.

"What?" Suddenly the situation seemed a lot more serious.

((More fast-forwarding. Nobody eat me for going to fast, this is supposed to be quick))

**Darry**

A week passed more quickly than anyone thought it would. I packed on Saturday, after putting it off for a long time. Now it was Monday again, and I was standing there, with Elle, saying goodbye to my family. It was funny, but, now that we were on the edge of it, I felt like I really didn't want to go. I wanted to stay home, but it was already paid for. I had to go.

Lola was there, to say goodbye to her sister, who, we decided should come with me. I hugged Soda and Pony, and when Dess came forward for hers, I hugged her the hardest of all of them.

"Be careful, little sis," I whispered into her hair. "Stay alive 'till I come home for Christmas, kay?"

"Okay," she murmured, hugging me back. "Darry, I'm sorry me and Dally made you so mad…"

"Hey, don't apologize. If he's the guy for you, I ain't gonna stand in your way. Just…take care of your brothers. Make sure nothing blows up."

"I will." I said goodbye to Two-Bit and Dallas stiffly. They were like my brothers, but only sort of. It wouldn't have felt right to hug them, but it would've felt too formal to just shake hands, so we kind of stood there in that awkward way until Elle finally decided it was time to go. She briefly hugged every member of the gang and her sister especially. She even hugged Dallas, much to the amusement of the rest of the gang. Then we loaded up in the pickup, and we were gone. I watched them in the rearview until they were too small to see, but before that happened, I swear I saw Pony and Soda wipe their eyes, and Dess turned into Dallas, Lolly holding her hand and hugging her around him. Lola may have shed a tear or two, but I wouldn't know, because by the time my eyes found her, she was already facing Two-Bit and hugging him fiercely.

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**Wow. It made me sad to write this, more so than I thought I'd get. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed this far, and to all those who put up with…last chapter. Please remember-this last half was **_**supposed**_** to be kind of rushed and distant. It's showing the shock. There will be emotion later. Review, PLEASE!!!**

** -tIGRE**


	15. Things Explode

**Hi!!! I'm back again-ha, you thought you were rid of me. I LIVE! So…here you go. ****OH! Wait a sec…congratulations to Alamodie, who did rightly predict combustion in this chapter: things do explode.**

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Chapter 13: Things Explode **(I swear to God that ****was not planned.****XD)**

**Lolly**

Soda…as leader…somebody kill me. Okay, I can see why Darry picked him out of the three oldest; Dallas, Two-Bit, and him. He's a brother, you know? Besides, would _you_ trust Two-Bit with _your_ gang? Or Dallas? But, come on. I don't mean to be selfish here. Really, I don't. I usually don't think of stuff like this. I'm not even sure why I'm doing it now.

But the strain of being a leader, not jut in the sense of a gang leader, in fact, very little do to with that sense, can tax a person. What I mean here is that Soda is now officially the main source of income for the Curtis household, which, by the way, has two extra people living in it that _aren't Curtises at all_. Yes, I know Dallas and I work, and Pony's gonna de-tassel here before too long, but someone has to pay taxes. The fact that we're greasers does not exempt us from that law (believe me, many have tried and many have failed). I just…I really hope Soda doesn't get old before his time. It wouldn't be fair to him.

Waking up the next morning, the house already felt oppressive, but I got up and quietly went downstairs, making myself some toast. I debated on whether or not to make a hot breakfast, but decided against it. The remaining three Curtises probably wouldn't feel like eating much right now.

Here's the thing, though. Don't think we weren't happy to know that Darry was off doing what he'd always wanted to do. That was great for him. But to us, it was a bit like losing Mr. and Mrs. Curtis. Suddenly, the presence that seemed to make everything move-and move right-was gone. Now we were a little confused on how to run again.

Soda was the second one up, looking a little depressed, but otherwise none the worse for wear. He smiled when he saw me and sat down beside me, tipping back in his chair as he had a tendency to do.

"How are you?" I asked tentatively. He gave a bittersweet ghost smile and looked at me.

"Fine. Happy, but sad. Excited, but a little scared. Not really anything that makes sense. I'll be fine. I might have to start collecting rent from you and Dally, though. Gas station work don't pay as much as roofing." I nodded.

"It's okay. I don't mind helping. It only seems fair." He closed his eyes-he was still tired.

"You'll figure it out someday that life is never fair." Our conversation was ruptured by two things. One, the cat streaked into the kitchen and, being a cat, sought safety on top of the highest point in the room. Soda's head, unfortunately. Two, there was a large amount of muttering in the living room, followed by, "Sorry, whoever Prop just tried to climb!" Dess shuffled into the room, eyes closed. "I stepped on his tail. Damn it's bright in here."

Eyes still closed, she bumped right into Soda, who was still trying to coax Prop's claws out of his shirt collar.

"Oops, sorry Soda."

"That's…hey. Hang on. How did you know it was me?" Yeah, you're thinking, stupid question. But her eyes were closed, and Soda hadn't talked to her once.

"Smell," we replied at the same time. For the first time, Dess opened her eyes to look at me. She grinned quirkily.

"What do you mean, _smell_? Do I stink or something?" He looked offended.

"Huh-uh." Dess shook her head. "You all smell different. In good ways-you especially. I know you and Darry and Pony and Dallas. Anyone else gets a smack in the face for not moving outta my way."

"Uh-huh. I see. You guys are weird." He stalked out of the kitchen, presumably to shower and get dressed. Prop rubbed against Dess's legs and begged to be picked up. She obliged him and sat on top of the counter.

"How do you really feel about Soda being leader?" she asked. And it was then when things came unglued.

There had to be some old emotion left over from-shiver-_Sandyfest_ in there, because what came out was a lot more anger than intended. And, you know, maybe I was just really pissed off at Darry at this point. Not a lot was his fault, but he was the one who took me away from my family for, like, half my life. Well, not technically, but still!

I started bawling like a baby, in the middle of a kitchen where greasers slept in the next room. I am such a pansy.

"I'm worried about him, Dess!" I sobbed, burying my head in my hands. "I know he's gonna get to be just like Darry one day, all old and the one who's always chewing our buts for not being home on time and all that _crap_." I paused to take a breath, catching her eye. "And you've seen it," I muttered darkly. "Steve. He's starting to grow apart from us. His best friend, Dess! What'll he do then? And the money…where will it come from?"

Dess wiped a tear from her eye and sat down next to me, enveloping me in a hug. She stroked my arm in a sisterly way and hushed me till I was done.

"Are you okay, or would you rather I go get you something to throw really hard?" she asked after a time, only half joking.

"Get me a shoe." She went and grabbed one, Pony's, by the way, and I hurled it into the next room. It hit the wall across from us and landed on my brother's face before rolling off. He jumped up with a start and I hastily dried my eyes.

"What the hell was that?" he said in a moderately loud voice, before realizing where he was and who he was surrounded by. I couldn't help grinning slightly.

"Sorry for that…weird thing. It was nothing."

"It's okay. I kinda feel the same way, sometimes." She patted me on the back one last time and walked to the doorway, throwing me a comforting smile before darting up the stairs to jump on Dallas and wish him good morning. It hit me then-we were _all_ old before our time. Not quite as old as Darry, and in different ways. But that-that was a prime example. The look Dess gave me was not out of place in this house. We'd all given it at one time or another. However, it didn't belong on the face of an eighteen year old girl.

That was the face of someone who had seen a lot in a short amount of time and had to grow up very fast to avoid being crushed by it. Which made me wonder-and this is a very weird thought-were we actually some of the most mature people in Tulsa? Oh man, I gotta stop staying up so late. Remember, kids, this is what comes from your brain if you think too hard.

**Dess**

Pouncing on blondes is so much fun. No, seriously, I think it might just be the fact that they're blonde. I did it to Darry once-not nearly as fun as Lolly, or Dally, or Soda. Then again, it could've just been the fact that it was Darry.

Dally threw me off the bed and was about to do the same thing in larger scale-like, across the room-when he realized it was me.

"Dess, what the hell was that for?"

"I dunno. You looked so peaceful. I could hardly stand it that _you_ got to sleep in later than _me_. It wouldn't have been fair." I sat with my knees bent, feet touching in front of me, hands tucked inside the space they made.

"You look like some demented frog," he told me, running a hand through his shaggy hair and searching for a shirt.

"I am a demented frog. Sometimes." He gave me a look through the collar of his shirt, which he was in the process of putting on.

"You know, I think you were a lot mellower…_quieter_…when you first came." I grinned.

"Aww. C'mon. You know you love it." He returned the grin, but said nothing. He didn't need to-I could tell he did.

**Soda**

We played a short game of football. Pony wasn't here, which was convenient, because that meant that we had even teams again. He was out de-tasseling. I remember doing that. It killed me.

Lunch was a fiasco-somebody convinced Two-Bit to make chocolate milkshakes, which was fine, except for the fact that they also convinced him that gravity would keep the shake in the blender and that the lid wasn't needed.

Now, I think we all know that Two-Bit totally knew that wasn't true. However, I also think we had a lot more fun that lunch than we'd had in a long time. Chocolate milkshake-taste the explosion. Maybe there would be an upside to Darry being gone.

I was just walking in the room when I heard a "Two-Bit, no!" and an electric whirring. Suddenly I was spattered in something cold and wet, and there was demonic cackling coming from somewhere, only I couldn't tell where, because there was chocolate in my eyes.

Suddenly the laughter stopped.

"Oh crap," Two-Bit muttered, dropping a spoon as I wiped the mix out of my eyes.

"No crap, oh crap," I growled. The whole gang-or what was present-was in the kitchen. Lolly looked on with mild surprise that the concoction had reached as far as it did. It was like a bomb. Dallas and Dess both looked at me, watching for my decision, although both had milkshake dripping through their hair. And last of all, Steve was standing closest to Two-Bit, his hand actually on the 'stop' button.

"Steve. Clean it up." He chuckled some more and went to get a washrag.

"No. Not with a rag."

"With what?"

"I think you know what." His eyes got very wide, but I just nodded. And he proceeded to lick the exploded milkshake off every nonliving thing in the room.

Pony crawled through the front door just as we were finishing sandwiches. I winced at the bruises and paper cut-like scratches up and down his arms.

"How's the corn treatin' ya?" Lolly asked him, handing him a sandwich.

"I hate corn. If I ever see it again, I kid you not-I will shoot myself in the foot."

"You're outta luck, then, because you'll be seein' corn every day of your immediate life for a while," I grinned, pouring him what was left of the milkshake volcano. "You shoulda seen the science project we just had."

"You should go get me some mouthwash. I bet I die of mouth infection now," Steve grumbled.

"Oh no…did it involve a blender?" Two-Bit, from his seat at the table, nodded slowly. Pony's face paled. "Glory, I don't even want to know." The gang burst out laughing.

"Poor kid," Dess sympathized around a grin, walking over and giving exhausted Pony a hug. "I member when Riley had to do that back in Kearney." Confused glances went around.

"Riley who?" Dallas asked, bristling slightly. Dess smiled secretively at him.

"Ah, just the love of my life, who could beat the tar outta you in rodeo _or_ a rumble, easy as pie," she teased him. "He was this guy we knew. He was pretty decent. We never did find out what happened to him…" she mused.

"No big," Lolly said after a while. "She liked him like mad, but now she's got another bone to chew."

"I'm so sure," Dallas replied, standing up. Oh no, his pride was showing. "Eye color?"

"Green."

"Car?"

"Mustang. Black. Stolen."

"Height?"

"6'5."

"Try again."

"Why?"

"Because I'm only 6' 2."

"Damn, fine, I don't know, somewhere in and along your lines. Wait, you're a midget."

"Greaser or Soc?"

"What do _you_ think?"

"Point taken. Hair color?"

"Blond." Dallas cocked an eyebrow.

"Reeeeeally? _Interesting_."

"She has a fixation for blonds," Lolly piped, ignoring Dess's ever-reddening face. "Damn, do you mean I'm the only one who's noticed?" Dallas crossed his arms haughtily, examining the nails on his right hand.

"Check. Mate. I win."

"Who said we were playing anything?" All of a sudden, Lolly stood up and whacked Dallas over the head.

"OW! What was that for?" she shrugged.

"I dunno. I felt like it."

"You know," he said, storming over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug, "There was a time when no one would _ever_ dare to smack me over the head, whether it was random or not!!" He took a big drink.

"Hey…hey, Dally, you don't like coffee, remember?" Dess said, hiding a smile behind her hand. Dallas made a face and poured the rest of the coffee down the sink.

"I do now. And it was cold, too. You got any water in there, Sodapop?" I was leaning against the fridge, and I looked inside, searching for the large jug of water we always kept filled.

"No."

"Never mind, I'll drink tap." He turned on the faucet, and suddenly he bolted off to the side, the white shirt he was wearing sticking to him tightly-it was drenched. A spray of water was still continuing, coming from the sprayer attached to the sink. I barely made out a small, red rubber band wrapped around the handle. "Damn! Who did that?" Dallas looked murderous. Lolly and Dess shared a look and fell into fits of hysteria.

"I'm sorry Dals; I didn't think _you'd_ do it! Hahaha, God have mercy on my soul please don't hit me!"

"Hang on, I gotta go change. Damn I hate wet clothes…" he continued muttering under his breath, stripping off his shirt and heading upstairs. We watched him go.

"Wow, that was weird," Lolly stated.

"Why did you guys do that in the first place?" I asked. They shrugged.

"We wouldn'ta gotten away with it if Darry was home." Silence fell. It was kinda uncomfortable, broken only by the return of Dallas, wearing a clean shirt. He froze.

"What? Did somebody die or summat?"

"No," I replied, suddenly realizing why I'd been thinking something was missing. "But I just realized…Steve never _did_ come home." All heads turned toward me.

"What?" Pony looked at me funny. "Wasn't he already here?" I shook my head.

"No. He said he had a little work to do, but he shoulda been here by now."

"What was he doin?" Two-Bit asked, frowning. A missing friend was bad news.

"Finishing a car," I replied. "I'm gonna call the station, see if he's still there." But as I strode across the room and picked up the phone, I found it ringing in my hands.

"Hello?"

_"Soda?"_

"Steve? What the hell happened to you? You sound like you got hit by a truck or somethin'!"

_"You could say that."_ He laughed bitterly. _"Damned Socs. It's okay, I'm commin' home. Don' worry."_

"What did they do?"

_"Jumped me. All I did was look at some girl. I don't even know the broad."_ Well, Steve, you know that's all they need to get started. _"Don' worry, I'm fine. I ain't even bleeding. I'll be at your place in a bit."_ With that he hung up the phone. It was a very Stevelike, and yet…very wrong, in some weird way. It was more distant than it should have been. He usually would've been celebrating how bad he'd stomped his attackers. Now he sounded listless…dead. I went back into the living room, told the gang about what had happened, and we sat there until, ten minutes later, Steve walked in the door.

**Steve**

I walked in the Curtis' house and looked around. Like I'd said, I wasn't bleeding, I just had some bruised knuckles and what would probably become a black eye. Still, though, I was really annoyed, and something didn't smell right. As the Socs ran off, they mentioned something about how "lucky they were Cherry Valance had tipped them off." Now, last I'd heard, Cherry was working for Tim, and sometimes still Pony, if they ran into each other and he was playing his cards right. I always said she had a bit of a soft spot for him.

Which begs the question-why the ever-living _hell _would Cherry tell a bunch of her Soc friends to beat _me_ up? Like I say, somethin's wrong with this picture. There was anger inside me. I was really pissed off, and really confused, and I needed to get out of here because the next person who tried to talk to me was probably gonna get his face beaten in.

The whole gang stared at me with wide eyes as I walked in. I didn't know what they were staring at-ain't like they never seen a bruised face before.

"You okay, Stevie?" Soda asked, leaning backwards from hunting in the fridge to look at me.

"No." The reply was curt. I didn't feel like explaining myself, even though the guilt inside me had passed nagging and was now beating me over the head with a two-by-four. But I couldn't squeal. Alive and guilty was better than dead and free. "I gotta leave, guys, I just gotta get away from this for a while."

They threw glances. Discreet ones, but they were thrown.

"Alright. Where you gonna go?" I shrugged.

"My old man's. Evie's. I dunno. Me and her are back on," I added, seeing the confusion and feeling an impulse to banish it. "Don't worry. I took care a' myself before, I can do it again. I'll be around…" It was a vague parting. They knew it. I knew it. I grabbed what stuff of mine I could find in the house, bundled it all up, and walked out the door, again throwing a "See you guys around" over my shoulder and shutting the door behind me.

Out of sight of the windows, I leaned against the door frame heavily, taking a deep breath and steadying myself. I was hit by the overwhelming urge to go back in there and spill my guts like a six year old who'd stolen candy. They were my family-they would help me out of this. There had to be some other way to do this than spend my life under Tim Sheppard's thumb.

But…I'd plotted against them. Besides, it wasn't our nature-any of our's-to fight another person's fight. This was between me and Shep if I spilled. They wouldn't pity me. They'd hate me. I had no choice but to stay silent. I pushed off the wall violently. Cussing under my breath, I almost punched the doorframe with all my might, but I stopped just before my fingers scraped the flaking paint. That door never did anything to me. One of the few things in the world that hadn't. Instead I took it with good grace-well, about as good as I could get-and just walked away. From everything that ever mattered to me.

**Soda**

Shocked silence met the door slamming shut. I averted my eyes-Steve had always been my best friend, and he had guts and honesty. You gotta respect that in a guy. But I was feeling jumpy, agitated. Something was wrong here. It all looked right, but beneath the cover, something was deeply disturbed. Steve wouldn't have left if he hadn't made some huge mistake. But why wouldn't he tell me he had?

I knew why. Lolly. I hung around with her or the rest of the gang so much, there were times I forgot about him completely. I pushed him away. Damn. This was all my fault. My patience with this whole setup was about to snap. Could we go four days without having someone jumped or worse? It never stopped. Ever.

I stood up and looked around the room once. It took few strides to reach the door-it was like the whole house had shrunk. I knew I had to go after him and figure out what was wrong. That…was just what friends did. But I stopped. There was a second set of footsteps behind mine. They stopped, and I turned just in time to see Dally at the foot of the stairs, wrenching his hand away from Dess. He looked back on all of us with a face I knew way too well-one I never thought I'd see again.

His face was hard and closed, his stance prickly and emanating anger and frustration, confusion and hostility. The lynx was back. All of a sudden his eyes were sharp and cold again, and the affect it had on him was startling and scary. It threw his profile into sharp relief even in the bright light of the room, sharpened his features. He was mean. He was tough, He was not messing around, and he had just rejected his girl in front of the whole room.

He leapt up the stairs with dangerous feline grace. We looked around at each other and then at Dess, who had backed a few steps from the staircase. She looked shocked and hurt and about to bawl, although, to her credit, she didn't.

"What…_was that_?" Lolly asked. Dess shook her head.

"I don't know," I put in for her. "I gotta go find Steve and talk some sense into his thick head. Can you guys deal?" They nodded, and I was gone.

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**I don't know if people outside the Midwestern US know this, so sorry if you do, but de-tasseling is this thing where, in the middle of summer, you run through hot, wet, muddy cornfields and twist off the tassels on the fully-grown corn. It's hot, hard, and dirty, but it pays well. **

**Also! Sorry it took so long to update, the chapter's been done for a while, but I've been grounded. Hopefully I'll be able to update sooner. REVIEW!!! Thanks.**


	16. Snare Unseen

**Questions answered: Dallas's meltdown will be explained. Believe me, the characters are as confused as you. And to elaborate on the sprayer incident: most sinks have a little sprayer attachment that has a handle on it. When it's not in use, it points outward and it's turned on by running the faucet while squeezing the handle. Therefore, a rubber band around the handle will equal a spray of water. ****Onward…

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Chapter 15: Snare Unseen

**Soda**

I went after Steve just because the predominant part of me said to. I was split in half-comfort my pathetically confused sister or run after my best friend? Thing was, I'd been doing the latter so much for most of my life I didn't think about sticking around until I was out the door. Steve must've taken an alley, because he wasn't going down the street. That was bad, because he could go just about anywhere and I wouldn't know. I stood in the street for a while, cussing myself out under my breath.

I was so stupid. Such a stupid idiot. The first girlfriend I'd had in a while was all it took to get me distracted from him, and I knew how much Steve disliked divided attention. All the attention was either on him or other people, not both at once. I picked a random alley entrance that I knew would eventually lead me to his house, stopping along the way at Evie's in case he was there.

The street was long and was lined by trees. It was hidden by the buildings flanking either side of it-standing like so many legs of giants. Streets like these were quiet and deathly still. I picked my steps carefully, my tenseness forcing me to balk at large stones, bottles or shards of glass, plywood, anything that would make a noise when struck. There were faces everywhere. It was bizarre, but the lack of enmity with the upper class and then this sudden unprovoked attack suddenly made the air heavy and thick, hostility a goliath cat stalking the skies like lightning, smelling hot and metallic and coppery-fresh spilt blood.

I shook my head and put my hand on a fencepost. I was making myself paranoid. My eyes closed for a few seconds-sleep had been fleeting lately. The lack of Darry's snore was like the lack of silence in a strange way. Pent up energy was like a rubber band in my chest, poised to strike at the lightest touch. I needed to spend it.

So I vaulted away from my standstill into a flat sprint. I wasn't anything like Pony when it came to running. I had no conditioning, but any trained monkey could run. There were even a few vaults thrown in, to spice things up. I felt better after the run. Then I laughed at myself. Paranoia always seems so foolish afterward. I'd know. There was Evie's house, looming before me. Wow, had I really run this far, this fast?

I glided up the steps and ran my knuckles along the doorframe. Evie's little sister, Susan, came to the door.

"Hiya Sodapop!"

"Hey Suze, is Evie home?" She shook her little blond head.

"Nope, but I can tell her you came by…"

"Naw, don't worry about it. When did she leave?"

"She's been gone for about an hour."

"Really? Kay, thanks." She nodded, a good little seven year old, and shut the door. I stood by it's frame for a while. So he'd bypassed Evie's. Well, there were two possible things going on here.

One, he'd run into her already and they were just out. Or two, he'd lied and wasn't back together with her, and wasn't planning on doing so anytime soon. Either way, it was bad news for me, because the more I thought about it, the more I realized how stupid it would be of me to show up at his place to have his old man answer the door. I shuddered at the thought, turned heel to go back home, and flipped my collar up just to be contrary-I was in no mood to speak to anyone right now. And no one in their right mind messes with a collar-flipped hood.

----

**Dess**

It…was not right. Something was wrong. Something was wrong on so many levels. Level one: WTF is Darry doing not here? Level two: WTF are Socs doing jumping my gang after all this time? Level three: WTF is Steve doing AWOLing on us?

And level four: WTF did I just experience?

He was…not Dallas, suddenly. I don't know how to explain it, but he'd never act like that toward a girl. Not even some random whore he'd probably never see again, let alone an old friend. I was scared, but I forced it under the rug. My legs carried me mechanically across the room where I sat next to Lolly, taking the hand she wordlessly flipped up.

Prosper, who'd been sitting at the lip of the stairwell, looked up and meowed like he was asking Dallas is it was okay to come up, then he bounced up the stairs. I faintly heard him bat the door open. Good sign-Dallas didn't kick my cat out.

And yet, even though I was confused and freaked out and shattered, I totally got it. He feared surviving. Being the last one. Hell-let's get general about it-he feared being alone. Even though he was unconsciously the most distanced person I'd ever met. Everyone was falling back around him. It was natural for him to lash out. I'd go and talk to him later, once he'd had time to cool down.

"I'm goin' out, okay?" I told Lolly, standing and straightening my clothes. She nodded. I strode out of the room-third time's a charm, I thought randomly, noticing at the worst of times that I was the third one out that door in twice as many minutes. Twilight was coming. Moving in quickly, bringing with it a distantly cool breeze that grabbed at my short hair and ran down my arms. It smelled like rain, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. That was fine with me-I loved that smell.

I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jeans wishing I'd brought a jacket. It wasn't really cold-not like winter in 'Braske, I chided myself wryly. Weather there could turn tundra in a millisecond. But I'd gotten used to the hot, dry weather here, so the damp, cool waves of air were chilly on my skin. I got a few blocks away, approaching the lot, and sat down on the curb. Then stealing a glance in either direction down the deserted street, I lay flat on my back cautiously.

I ghost grin tugged at my lips as I pictured the looks on the faces of my family-how they'd chastise me for being so foolish as to lay down on the street around sundown. But nothing would happen. I was in my own neighborhood, far from the center of town, or even the playground that was near the divide, which gave Socs a reason to prowl when they were pissed off. Nothing would happen. It was warm outside…calm…quiet. I felt my eyelids droop, despite the commotion of a few minutes earlier. That's how I worked-you could put me to sleep with a little calm, especially if something weird had just happened. Nothing would happen…

---

**Lolly**

Oh for the sake of God's ever-living mercy on the poor people of east-side Tulsa. This was so like Dess, I would laugh myself senseless if I hadn't been worried sick to my stomach about where she was. She'd been out for over an hour, Soda had come home in half that time but claimed he hadn't seen her, and for some reason, Dallas was retaining his stony distance. I knelt beside Dess's limp, relaxed body and listened for her breath, even though I knew it was foolish-she was fine. Tired, but perfectly fine.

She was all curled up, and for a moment, I could swear she was thirteen again. I almost couldn't bring myself to wake her, then I shook myself out of it and reminded myself that it was nine-thirty in the evening, I had work tomorrow, and we were sitting on the side of a street. It wasn't like we were in the bedroom we shared back in Nebraska on a Saturday morning.

"Dess. Wake up, we need to go home." I shook her gingerly, but when she didn't stir, I lost my patience. "Dammit Dess, wake up!" I poked her hard in the forehead.

"Oww! What the fudge?! Lolly? What are you doing here? Where am I? What time is it? Aww, did I fall asleep _again?_"

"The fudge says hi, I hope so, waking you up, some random street, nine-thirty-ish, and yes. It appears so." She frowned open-mouthed at me, her eyebrows knitted together in the look of classic unveiled confusion.

"Wha? Oh, I get it. Ha-ha, you're effing hilarious."

"C'mon sweetie, we need to get you home." I offered her my hand, but my use of a babying term made her get up on her own and look herself over, touch her face, and look around.

"What? You never say that unless something bad's happened. Lolly…did…did Soda get hurt or something? What aren't you telling me?" Fear crept into her voice, which I suspected had something to do with our surroundings. It was a clear night, but you can't wake up on a street in the middle of the night without being a little easily spooked.

"No. Everyone's fine…physically," I added under my breath. Whatever was up, I'm sure Dallas hadn't tried anything that desperate yet. Dess either didn't hear or pretended not to. "Sorry, slip of the tongue." I forced myself not to wince as I lied. "I was just worried about you, but you're obviously fine. Let's go," I prodded again, and she nodded and fell into step with me.

I was dying to talk to her and find out how she felt about what happened. She had to be hurting inside, but if she wanted to talk, she could tell me. That was the way our relationship worked. If we wanted to talk, there was no pressure until we were ready. I didn't have to wait long.

"Why?" It came out as a piteous whimper. Her hands were still stubbornly at her sides, which meant no tears had fallen, but she was close. Anyone who didn't know the gang's history would've been surprised at her emotion over it, but Dess was no idiot. She knew something like this put her obscenely close to losing him. "What did we do? Was it me?" I was suddenly tremendously pissed off at Dallas. Not only did he have her terrified, he had her blaming herself for his games.

"No, I don't think anyone did anything. That's…that's just him, Dess. He wasn't meant to stay in one place long." My words were voiced carefully. She didn't want to hear me trash talk him like I so desperately wanted to, she'd just get angry if I did. "It's okay. Maybe it was just some weird thing. We've been under a lot of stress lately." The words sounded dry and feeble even as they came from my mouth, and they shimmered weakly between us before they disappeared.

"Has he come back downstairs yet?" Her voice was now steady, grim, cold. Like she knew the answer.

"No." She nodded.

"I didn't think he would've. We'll see what I can do."

"You do seem to work miracles on him." She grinned fleetingly.

"I can only work so many miracles. Two seem like such a big stretch for kid, Loll…goddamnit…" Her voice cracked horribly and I winced. Pity washed over me-but who really wants pity anyway? Comfort would be a good substitute.

"Dess. I'm sorry. Come here." I sat her down on a curb. We were so close to her house I could see the lights, and I wasn't going to let her go back in in this state. She lay down in a position similar to the one I'd found her in, her head resting on my outstretched legs.

"He expects me to give him everything…I don't know if…I'm not strong enough, Lolly." I brushed her bangs out of her face.

"Don't give up on it yet, Dess. It was instinct, you know it was. You." I paused, waited until she looked at me to continue. "Have changed his life. Your what he has to live for, and whether he likes it or not, your still here, and he has to deal with you, so I say you better put your face in his and give him the lesson of his life. He can't keep yanking you around like that. You are you. You're not his toy. Tell him."

"You know what, you're right. He's just begging for someone to stand up to his crap." Tear trails were still wet on her cheeks, but she rubbed her face viciously with the back of her hand and they were gone. "Are my eyes red?" She turned her face to me.

"No. All moist, but you won't be downstairs long enough for anyone to notice."

"Good. I cannot believe I'm about to do this."

"Because he's Dallas or because he's your boyfriend?"

"Oh, because he's Dallas. He would…like…_hit_ me or something without even meaning to."

"Nu-uh."

"You never know."

"He wouldn't hit you. He loves you."

"Yeah, you just wait." We stood up and walked into the house. As I watched Dess walk up those stairs and out of sight, I wondered what would happen if Dallas _did_ hit her. Namely, if he would get out of the house alive.

---

**Da****llas (mild language toward the beginning)**

I was sitting on the foot of Dess's bed, holding my head in my hands and wondering _why the_ _fuck_ I always screwed everything up. Never fails, now, does it? Okay, given, I was confused. Dess and I were a lot more serious than I'd ever expected, which made me wonder if I really wanted to be in this as deep as I was. Alright-no lies here, I'm not known to stick with one girl and be good. I'm not even sure my body can handle that, we'll have to see.

But there was no reason to take that out on Dess-she never did nothin', or I guess it'd be better to say she'd done so much it was unfair to treat her like that. But I couldn't possibly tell her what I wanted to do…

Not New York. Never again New York, that was the hellhole that started this problem in the first place. But somewhere similar, somewhere where I could lose my soul again in just surviving for a day at a time. But the look on her face when I pulled away, realizing a hair's length too late that it was her, twisted my new, raw soul so much I could've collapsed from the pain. I couldn't imagine doing it again, the pain would kill me, if I didn't finish the job myself first.

Hands on the doorframe were so quiet I didn't notice anyone had come until the doorknob tapped the wall gently. My head snapped up and I was sickly hopeful that it was her, hating myself for needing it to be so much, but at the same time deliriously happy that I felt it. And it was.

Dess stepped into the room and I stood up, ready to throw myself down again and beg her to forgive me, meanwhile the feral part of my brain was off preparing to kill itself because I was such a pansy. She held up one hand to stop me and said nothing, fixing me with a stare that was on the brink of glaring.

"No. I came here to say something, and you're gonna sit your smartass self down and pay attention, then I'll hear what you have to say for yourself." I obeyed instinctively-anything to please the being who could kill me with a handful of well-chosen words.

"Dallas." I winced at my full name being thrown at my feet. "You're a badass. I know. You don't have to prove that to me. You can be a jerk sometimes. Surprise, I know that one, too. You have a tendency to walk out on girls like they're doormats. It would be in your best interest to _not_ play around with how close you can get to actually pulling that off with me before I get tired of it and walk out on _you_. I prefer to think you liked me more than that, or maybe I'm laboring under some sad delusion." I took a breath to speak in my defense, but she fixed me with what was now a full-blown glare.

"Do you like me?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to stay with me?"

"Yes."

"Until one and or both of us die?"

"…Yes." I closed my eyes tightly, entirely aware of what I'd just done. The pause. The damn pause. That was me making up my mind for sure, but I knew she'd take it as a sign of a lie. There was a silence that stretched between us so long I was wondering if she was looking for something to throw at me.

"You don't need to throw my emotions around to show that you own me, Dally. I already know that, too. Please don't make me regret that." My nickname made me relax a little. "I won't put up with it. That's one thing I know for sure. I don't want to walk away from you; God knows that's all anyone's ever done to you. But if you push me, I will."

I didn't doubt her for a second. The look on her face said that she was not going to let this happen again.

"Are you done?" I made it humble as possible.

"For now."

"And I can speak my piece?"

"That was the deal."

"And you'll listen?" She fought a grin and came a little closer.

"I can't guarantee that."

"Okay, whatever. That's the best I can ask for. First off, I'm sorry. Okay, I could just tell you that's the way I am and it comes with the territory, but it's lying and we both know it. It was an accident. I didn't know it was you. Just hang on a sec," I added, noting how she inhaled to start yelling at me again.

"I don't wanna win the game if I can't play by my own rules. Sometimes, screwing up is the result. But I wanna make it right with you. I wouldn't bother with anyone else." She wasn't gonna just melt down with few sweet words. Not even from me. "I never shoulda done it, but I did. It won't happen again. I wanna stay with you. I promise." She looked down at the floor and I thought for a second I'd lost her completely, but then she looked up.

"Seriously?"

"I'd probably die if you weren't around." She rewarded me a small smile, and when I stood up this time she didn't stop me from hugging her around the waist.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"I know."

"I love you?" I said it in the voice of a five year old and ducked my head, jutting my lip out. She grinned and looked away to roll her eyes to the ceiling.

"Yes. I'm going downstairs," she informed me, gently pulling my arms from her waist. "Come down when you're ready, okay?" As she walked out, I wondered if I'd lied to her, and how much she'd hate me if I had.

---

**Tim**

I propped my feet up on the coffee table and pulled flipped backwards to watched the phone cord as I pulled on it to give me more slack. When I had the length I needed, I punched in a number I'd rehearsed. 623-89945. The phone rang and I glanced up the stairs to check if Angel was coming down or not. There'd be hell to pay if she found me with my feet up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, could I speak to a Rebecca Martin?"

"This is her. Who are you?"

"A friend. A friend of Dallas Winston's." There was a short silence, and then she spoke, her voice considerably lower and faster.

"You know him? Oh my God, you know where he is?"

"I certainly do. He'd like to see you this weekend. He wants to thank you for everything you did for him, to help him get out of New York."

"Where? I can be there."

"Hang on. He'd also like you to meet his girlfriend."

"He's got a girlfriend now?"

"Yes, a serious one." Another pause, and the voice at the other end of it was slightly deflated.

"Yeah, I can be there. Where is he now?"

"How fast can you get to Tulsa?"

"Tulsa Oklahoma?"

"The very same."

"I can be there by this weekend."

"Great. I'm hosting a party this weekend; it'd be great if you could meet him there. Just ask around town for Tim Sheppard's place, they'll point you in the right direction."

"Okay. Thank you, Tim."

"No, my dear, thank _you_." I pressed the "call end" button and leapt off the couch to replace the handset in its cradle. My hand was just coming off the phone when there came a knock at the door.

Again, my gaze flicked to the stairwell, praying the noise hadn't woken my light-sleeping sister. I crossed the room and answered it. Steve Randall was the last person I expected to see.

"Tim. I want answers. Now." I feigned surprise at the bruise over his eye.

"Randall?! What the hell happened to you?"

"Don't play stupid with me. I ain't playin' your game anymore, Tim. You have to stop this, they don't deserve what they're gonna get." I grinned and leaned heavily on the door.

"Too late now, Stevie. I just placed a call. The storm's comin', we'll just have to see if old Dally's smart enough to see a trap when it's flaunting itself right in front of him." Steve glared at me.

"I hate you."

"I own you." A hostile quiet stretched between us, him glowering, me waiting for him to try to punch my lights out. "Or had you forgotten?" I added in a softer, mocking voice.

"I don't forget anything. This ain't over."

"You're right. It's just beginning. See you and your gang Saturday, Stevie."

* * *

**I'm sorry it took me so long to write this chapter, which was actually later divided into this and the next. I've been really dreading doing it…them…whatev. Carry on, and don't hate me too much. Thanks to my faithful reviewers-you know who you are. I love you all; you make it really an enjoyable thing to do. **

**tIGRE**


	17. Stress Fracture

**Here. I have to say, this was easily the **_**worst**_** chapter for me to have to sit and write. ****Ever.**** It beats Darry leaving by a tenfold. Don't leave me now! There's still a happy ending…maybe.

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Chapter 16: Stress Fracture

**Dallas**

I flipped a coin and watched it twirl, gleam in the light of the ceiling lamp, and land back in my outstretched hand. It seemed like it went in a pattern…heads, tails, heads, tails, stay, go, stay, go…

I caught it for the last time and threw it away from me with halfhearted force. Lord knew that was the last thing I needed, a stupid quarter deciding my fate. It was frustrating that I couldn't just get over it and make up my mind.

Thought one: more selfless than selfish. She deserved better than trash like me, but it was obviously her choice. It would probably end up that I'd hurt her or give her something she wasn't ready to deal with, because I was me. It'd be better for her if I just cut my losses and left. But she would be so miserable…that bizarre need to protect her rose up in me again, but either way, I'd have to open up for a different threat to save her from one. Yeah, figure that one out.

Thought two was so selfish I didn't even want to think about it. I could stay here and not feel the pain of leaving. It meant reforming, forgetting my pride and my reputation. But I was so ready to do it. Still there was enough doubt to tear me in two different directions.

"Hey, you guys hear music?" Soda's voice from downstairs broke into my thoughts. The quiet below made me imagine everyone stilling and listening to the music I'd been aware of for about a half an hour.

"Yeah," Pony answered. "Two-Bit mentioned yet _another_ party at Tim's tonight. He's with Lola, they're gonna stay out all night." Hey! There's an idea, a party. That would get us all back up. We'd been kinds catatonic lately, and I can't say I'd been doing much to help that out. I'd retreated into Dess's bedroom for the most part, preoccupied by my imminent self-war. "He extended invitation when Two-Bit found out. Said he's throwing it just because."

"Must be nice," Lolly said loudly. "To be so rich."

"He ain't-" Soda started, but Dess interrupted quickly.

"Oh, he's a slumlord. Yeah, he started out like us, but he invested his money and used it smart. Now he's just a middle class kid playin' greaser."

"Weeeell…what time is it, Pone?" I couldn't stand not making an appearance, so I stood, stretched, and slid downstairs to lean against the wall in the stair well. My sock feet stuck out, but I doubted anyone would notice.

"Sevenish. Like, ten after."

"Wow. It is so boring around here without Steve and Darry. I never noticed before."

"Well Two-Bit's gone, so you have to…Dally, are you comfortable there, or do you want to come join us?" I poked my head under the stairwell. Dess grinned and patted the seat next to her. I swallowed my emotions and wiped my face blank, crossed the room, sat down, and laced my fingers through hers. "Did you hear any of that?" She leaned forward to look at me.

"Yeah. You wanna go to a party?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Let's go."

"Who's going?" she asked the room. Soda and Lolly nodded, and Pony opened his mouth.

"Soda?"

"What, little buddy?"

"Umm…can I go?" Soda hesitated for a moment. Darry had never let Ponyboy go to one of these parties, and he was forbidden as ever to go anywhere near Buck's place.

"Yeah. You ain't gonna drink, and I don't think you're gonna end up in a bedroom, so why not?"

---

**Tim**

I watched the Curtis clan come in. They were looking a little pathetic without their great leader and the backstabber-double crossing…whatever. My guest breathed in sharply.

"You remember him well enough to tell his face?" I asked softly, not looking at her.

"How many men have hair like that and eyes like those?" she asked. "I'd recognize him anywhere, any look, any time."

"Good."

"Can I go see him?" She shifted from foot to foot nervously. I had to grin. Greasy girls. Gotta love the way they go after you like sharks on blood.

"No. Let him dance a little." She whined in the back of her throat and I patted her hand.

"Don't worry. You'll want him all the more after you see what he can do." Dallas Winston could show me up in dancing any time you please. He could even do it drunk against sober if he had a good partner. About the only one he couldn't beat-even on a good day-was Sodapop, and they still went at it sometimes.

I applauded myself. I wasn't sure this was going to work-there'd been several flaws in my plans, but Dallas looked sufficiently stressed. He might even drink tonight. This could-could-be easy. Or not. It would be a little hard to explain a girl from new York, who _happened_ to be Dallas's ex, being at a party in Tulsa where he'd been invited. Especially if she told them I'd contacted her. My ass would be on a pedestal so fast I wouldn't even know I was dead.

So I sat myself down in a chair in a dark corner, closed my eyes, and let the music and noise ebb and flow around me. I'd give them a good half hour to settle into their usual stride before I sent Rebecca after them.

She settled in beside me like a storm cloud, huffing and about ready to throw a hissy should someone drop a nickel. Time flies when you're semiconscious.

Next thing I knew, I was jerking myself awake because the sound of broken glass and gasps broke out over the crowd. I knew I'd been asleep longer than a half an hour. More like an hour and fifteen. Needless to say, my insomnia was getting worse. It'd be better with meds, but why bother? Now I cussed, not so politely and not so under-my-breath. Rebecca was somewhere that was not here. Within seconds, I knew why.

Dallas, the fiend, the vigilante, the top of all the girl's lists, the the great blond legend himself bolted out of my front door. Rebecca ran after him…but Dess didn't. It worked. Oh my God. It actually worked.

---

**Dess**

Dally was preoccupied. I could tell, because I couldn't loose myself in the music. He made too many mistakes. Not fast enough, didn't step in rhythm, slipped up on simple moves.

"Dals, are you okay?" I asked him, leading _him_ off the floor for the first time ever.

"No…not really. I'll be back, okay? You want somethin' to drink?" I couldn't believe my ears. Dally didn't drink. He never drank. Something was way up.

"Yeah..yeah, whatever you have is fine."

"I'll be right back. I promise." As he walked away and the crowd swallowed him, it seemed more like he was promising himself more than he was me.

I wove in and out of the people to find an empty chair near where I was before. Yes, before you ask, there were chairs just sitting out for this specific purpose. Not armchairs, either, like, barstools, table chairs, and such. Twenty minutes passed slowly. He must've met somebody and gotten distracted. I went to look for him. Not to mention, my throat was becoming dry. Something cold sounded wonderful right now.

So you can imagine the shock. People around me were murmuring before I was three feet from Dallas. Something was wrong here. I'd scrapped an unopened beer from somebody and was now sipping it. The bottle dangled from my fingertips precariously and it fell before I could catch it. But I didn't care. It didn't matter.

My Dally was kissing some other girl. I didn't know her. Now, I don't even know anything but her name. But it was a deep kiss. It was something I could tell, because he'd kissed me like that countless times before…held me like that countless times… And then he broke it and looked up right into my eyes. His hands fell to his sides and his eyes widened.

He must have seen the tears. I curse myself for crying. It drove him away. His mouth fell open and he mouthed a single word. I don't know what the words was-could've been 'I'm sorry,' 'no,' 'Dess,' or any number of curses. And then he turned and ran. The girl looked around and her eyes lighted on the face of the only person with tears in her eyes. She looked devastated for me, but she couldn't know.

The pile of broken glass from the dropped beer crunched under my feet as I turned heel and stalked away, head down, tail between my legs. Someone else could clean it up. I had to find my sister.

---

**Lolly**

The smoke in the room filled my nose and trickled down my throat. I was feeling lazy tonight, watching slack-eyed as Soda and two-Bit owned the beer pong table. My body was all stretched out and relaxed on the only couch in the upstairs.

Dess's voice came out of nowhere, and she scared me with how she sounded. Her voice rasped and was quiet…broken. I jerked my head around behind me as she knelt and laid her head on the armrest of the couch.

"Lolly…"

"What? Dess, baby, what happened?" I sat up and put a hand on her head, stroked her hair. She was crying freely. My stomach sank. Only one thing could've happened.

"Dally's gone. He left me like I knew he would. But…" she fixed me with a haunted, defeated stare. "He cheated on me first. I saw him kissing some other girl. I wanna go home, Loll." Her voice died to a whimper and she closed her eyes.

I stood her up and led her out of the room. Soda saw and his face showed a question. I pointed wordlessly at Dess and motioned for him to stay there. She needed to be alone right now.

When we got home, I took her up to her room and sat with her until she fell asleep, comforting her and telling her it'd be alright. But I didn't know. Whatever she was to him, he was half of her soul. She would be in great pain for some time. I could only hope that she'd be okay. We'd see tomorrow. Tomorrow would shed new light on this great big mess.

* * *

**Told you it was bad. Notice anything missing here? Dally's part of what **_**really**_** happened will come much later, it's very important to the story. Love you all, I'll post again soon as possible. Sorry it's so short. This is raw. More shock. **

**tIGRE**


	18. Mentality

**Hello again. I warn you, not much happens in this next chapter, we're taking a much-needed trip into the psyche of Dallas and Dess. A little action toward the end, and beware-Dally's mind is a scary thing. I predict strong language.

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Chapter 17-Mentality

**Dallas**

I opened my eyes and stared at the cracked, off white plaster on the ceiling. It was a few seconds before I felt panic. I bolted upright. I was alone. This was not the Curtis' house. Dess wasn't curled up by my side, her arms threaded around my waist or my neck, whichever she felt like. There was no early-morning ruckus, no smells of cooking food. Then me head pulsed like it'd been split open with a cleaver-I fell back down against pillows and sheets. The mother of all hangovers was making itself comfortable over the crown of my head.

Wait-hangover? Why the hell would I have a hangover when I don't even drink anymore? Then it was like someone turned on a movie in my head-I remembered everything. Everything. A low, steady stream of curses flowed from my mouth as I slowly put my hands over my eyes and pressed, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in my head. Too bad it didn't work.

Reaching the end of the dawn flick from hell, anger dominated the hangover. I felt the need to throw something and saw a glass on the bedside table. I palmed it and chucked it away so hard my shoulder smarted and the glass made it all the way to the opposite wall, smashing into a thousand pieces. Wherever I was, they were short a glass. I flinched at the harsh, loud sound of shattering glass and instantly regretted the action-I seemed to be doing that a lot these days.

It dawned on me like a truck hitting me. Run or break things. Either way, I killed everything I touched. Fuck my strength and my street rep and the fact that I could kill someone without even straining myself. They didn't matter, because what I wanted, I couldn't have. Everyone always said I'd be the last one alive, but no. I'd be the first to meet my fate in hell. Why? 'Cause I was a goddamn ass who couldn't sit still to look at his mistakes. It was better this way. She didn't deserve me waltzin' back through that door to break her again. She never asked for that.

That's what the broad gets, the stupid part of me argued back. Darryl told her to stay the hell away from me; she didn't, now she's hurt. She learned her lesson. Better she learned it from me, since I don't have the gall to go back and do it again.

I threw my legs off the side of the bed, looked down at my palms resting on my jeans. I could practically see the bloodstains. All those years in New York, and then I went back a while ago, thinking it would be different, that I might be able to breathe there for once. I lost myself the second time-had to loose it to get what I wanted. None of them had any idea of the things I'd seen, what I'd _done_. It made what Johnny did look tame. My words rolled back to me from the past-_I thought New York was the only place you could get pinned in a murder rap._

Well, I'd done it again. Pony admires me, I guess, for my street smarts, but that poor kid don't know that I use my head less than he does. It just looks like I do because I have instincts and he don't. But I couldn't just sit here. I had too low a tolerance for still to do that. Even if my world had just been ripped apart and the pieces were staring up from around my feet.

First things first-where was I? I stood and forced my world to stop spinning and fit itself into my frame of vision, then shuffled to the door. My hand on the knob, I opened it a crack. A long hallway…there was a little music playing softly downstairs, but otherwise it was so quiet, I knew there were probably very few, if any people here. Buck's during the day. Good. I hadn't spent any money getting here. In my state, I wouldn't have been surprised if I went and rented a room to add to my list of stupid things I'd done this week.

Which meant there was a bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet. Down the hall…that was okay, there was obviously no one in these rooms, all the doors were open. I walked down, knocked back a few tablets dry and went back to the room I'd crashed in. It was painfully familiar. This was the room I holed up in back when I used to stay here…before I changed. It felt trapping, smothering, like I'd outgrown it and it couldn't hold me anymore, but I had nowhere else to go.

I pulled on the shirt laying on the floor that I'd thrown off last night and stumbled downstairs, forcing the throbbing in my head to the back of my mind. Buck threw me a greeting nod which I returned. He was lucky I hadn't seen him in the past month; otherwise I'd probably be mad at him for no reason, too. My feet carried me down the familiar, beaten path; I wondered why there wasn't a track worn in this concrete from me using it as much as I did.

But then I stopped. What the hell was I doing? I was going home. No, I couldn't do that, just glide back in, say I was sorry and think everything would be okay. You can only say you're sorry so many times before it means absolutely nothing. My decision had been to stay with Dess, to turn it around and make something beautiful of it. It was a challenge. A test. Something I had to do to bear looking at myself ever again. But there was enough doubt in my mind that I kissed Rebecca, even though I knew full and well I didn't want or need her.

No more. I would go back, that I swore right then and there, but I had to bring something back with me, something to show that it would never happen again. I'd have to work hard to get it done. I started walking a slightly less familiar path toward the Slash J stables. Yeah, that'd be a good place to start.

---

**Lolly**

I fell asleep in Dess's room. At first, I was just there in case she woke up and needed comforting, but then, sitting on the bed, I dozed off and didn't wake up. My neck was sore from the funny way it had been lying flat up against the wall. It cracked when I moved it back into place, and I winced. The things you do for family…

Thankfully she was still asleep, curled up on top of her blankets, facing away from the side Dallas usually slept on and holding my right hand extremely tightly in hers. I unthreaded my fingers from hers with extreme care and slunk down the stairs, closing her heavy wood door behind me securely. I needed to speak to Soda.

Downstairs, I stuck my head under the stairwell carefully. Pony was there, watching TV. He had a glazed look in his eyes that said he wasn't really watching, but were using it as a point of attention so as not to make too much noise.

Pony and I walked into the kitchen. I wasn't surprised to see Soda there-it seemed like a leader thing, to be found in the kitchen when you were needed for something.

"We need to talk about last night," Soda told us grimly. "For starters, I need to know what happened." I pushed an empty glass around idly, stalling to collect my thoughts and find a way to leave my emotions out. Pony sat down across from me and laced his fingers, resting his chin atop them. His pale, green-gray eyes stared at me, begging an answer. Soda's darker, but otherwise identical ones did the same.

"I assume you can guess. After all, it's not like everyone is present this morning." Soda winced.

"I was hoping that wasn't why. You're sure he's _gone_? Like, they didn't have a fight and he's just boarded up somewhere till he cools off?" That was an interesting possibility. I immediately felt a pang at guilt at not thinking of that-at having so little faith in someone Dess so obviously trusted.

"Honestly, I hadn't explored the idea of him still being around. According to Dess, she saw him kissing another girl, so I assume he's gone. We can ask her when she wakes up."

"How long did she stay awake?" I shrugged. It wasn't like I watched the clock while comforting someone who was bawling.

"She was finally quiet by the time you guys got home. I dunno if she fell asleep or if she just stopped crying." Soda's eyes flicked around the table. They had turned steely, dangerous.

"I need a consensus." Soda's voice matched his eyes-it was low, calm and silken, but barely hidden below was aggression, even venom. "Do we jump Dallas if he makes an appearance in our path, or do we let him go?" I leapt into the conversation.

"Soda, think smart. One, if we jump him, that'll be all the license he needs to fight back, and with his skill he'd win, two it'll sting more if we ignore him."

"I agree," Pony concurred.

"Right. Good, that was exactly what I was thinking. I also think we need to stay away from parties from now on." His eyes went around the table again. "I'm not sure Dallas was the only one in on this. I've seen Steve talking it up with Shep a few times before." His eyes fixed to mine and thoughts of my dream and my mistrust in Steve passed between us. But how could he possibly connect those two with what had happened here?

---

**Dess**

Prop woke me up by attempted strangulation. Meaning he licked around my nose for a while and then sat on my face, purring loudly.

"Gah!" I sat up and he slipped off. He was a good cat-his claws stayed sheathed beneath his velvety toes. He looked up at me with greenish eyes, halfway between kitten blue and amber adult. I stroked his head absently, barring myself from thoughts of last night. It wouldn't be good if I lost it. "Kitty-cat," I murmured. "What am I gonna do?" He just looked up at me and swished his tail. I never wished more that animals could talk.

Pain is a weird thing. You feel nothing at first, ever notice that? And the worse the wound is, the longer it takes you to feel it. Usually. And, eventually, all hurts go away. Usually. Something comes along to distract you from it. Usually. That's physical pain. You and stub your toe and distract yourself by clipping a clothespin to your nose-take it from one who knows. Your nose will hurt, but the toe is no longer the main priority.

Mental pain-worse, spiritual pain-is a whole new level of hurt. I tell you now, there is no way to know how much pain your capable of taking without dying until you have half of your soul ripped out. My chest was stone, my throat was raw from crying, and it felt like I might pass out at any moment for no reason other than the fact that I could. That was nothing compared to what was going on inside.

Fire. I'm afraid of it, you know. Campfires are okay, the flames under a gas stove are fine. But uncontained fire is so scary…the way it eats everything…That was what it felt like. Like I was burning up inside. A slow, painful, throbbing burn. I shut my eyes tightly against the fire and longed for the warm fingers that weren't there. That might not ever be there again. I forced myself up out of bed. Whatever was going on inside, I had to be okay for Lolly and Soda and my baby brother.

Lolly, Soda, and Pony were already at the table, speaking in low voices and motioning gently. They stopped abruptly.

"Hey Dess," Lolly greeted me softly, grinning.

"You guys don't gotta talk so low, I ain't sick," I told them, feeling slightly annoyed.

"Alright, sorry. You want some breakfast?" No. No, I thought that, at that moment, I'd probably throw up if I ate anything.

"No. I'm okay. If I want anything, I'll get it myself." I rubbed my forehead with the heel of my hand, begging away the awful, sickly pain in me. "We don't have work today, do we?" Everybody shook their heads, seeming surprised I could worry about jobs at a time like this, which made me disappointed. Soda stood and wiped his palms on his jeans, licking his lips nervously.

"Dess, can I talk to you a minute?"

"Yeah."

"Lolly?" She got up and followed us back up to my room. Soda shut the door behind us and went over to my bed, where I lay with my head in Lolly's lap, staring into space. She tugged at a strand of my short hair gently. It was about the only thing that was keeping me from drifting off into my mind. She seemed to know that it wasn't a very safe place right now.

"You're not okay, are you?" she whispered. I kept my words level, strangling a sob.

"No."

"What's up?" I knew what she meant. Not, why are you not okay, but, what are you going through.

"It hurts." The hoarseness in my voice startled me, and my stomach hurt from holding back crying. "And I'm half dead. And I'm afraid that if I shut my eyes, I'll see him." I felt her stir. Without looking up, I knew she was looking at Soda, Soda who'd been here before.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Could you leave for a sec?" I sat up for her to leave, and Soda crossed the room in long, powerful strides to kneel in front of me. He looked in my eyes, concern shadowed there. "Did you sleep last night?" I nodded. "How much?"

"I dunno."

"But you slept?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Promise you'll eat something today?" I grimaced.

"Sorry, but food sounds really sickening right now."

"I know. Been there, done that. But I also don't care. You will eat. Darryl made me, but Darryl's not here. Even if it's like, toast or something."

"Soda," I started to whine, but he held up a hand.

"I know you're hurting. You loved him, you loved him so much he was like the air you breathed, the food you ate, the sun that woke you up every morning. You are in so much pain, you think you're about to die and you can't believe you have the capacity to _blink_ right now. I _know._" His words were forceful, and suddenly I had a feeling we weren't talking completely about me anymore. He was remembering the time when Sandy left him, how he'd felt them.

"But. And don't hit me for this, because someday you'll know how right I am. _But, _he was not supposed to be with you, otherwise he would've stayed. Someone else will come along. It's impossible to believe right now, but it's true. And it'll fade, as long as you don't keep feeding it. Look at me." I hadn't even noticed, but my eyes had slid from his face to the floor. I dragged my eyes back up to his. "I love you Dess. I don't want this to eat you up. And I don't want to see you throw yourself away because Dallas Winston is a jackass. Some guy's gonna be really lucky to have you." I grinned at that, and he paused to smile to, likely because I was smiling.

"Don't push it if you don't want to, none of us are gonna make you do something you're not ready for. And if you ever feel like you're due for an explosion, come see me."

"You're the man," I said weakly, already feeling better. Something about Soda made it hard to stay angry or sad…or both. It was his thing.

"I'm the man," he echoed. "Soda. The _man_." He stood and started to leave, but hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. He looked over his shoulder. "Dess?"

"Yeah?" His voice grew soft, and his eyes got a sad, faraway look.

"If you ever find you can't sleep…turn on a radio or open a window. Noise helps, you know?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"That's my job." With that, he stepped out, leaving me to my thoughts.

---

**Third**

Two-Bit Mathews woke up with Lola Nehls snuggled against his side. He grinned and recounted the night in his head. It'd been perfect. She slept peacefully, fully clothed. She wasn't like that, and he found it a strangely welcome relief to find a girl who wasn't. He stretched and she opened her eyes, turning into him and smiling.

"G'mornin'," she slurred.

"Hey. Have a good sleep?"

"Uh-huh." Two-Bit glanced at the clock over Lola's shoulder. It was almost eight-thirty, which meant his mother was long gone for work-she worked weekends, it was the only way she could scratch enough of a paycheck to support her two children.

"Do you mind if I shower here?" She asked him, playfully putting a finger to his lips. "_Alone?_"

"Sure," he grinned back. As she threw back the blanket and sat up, she pulled her hair off her shoulders. Two-Bit knew something wasn't right. The skin on her left was puckered. It looked like…

"Is that a _scar_?" He asked, grabbing her other shoulder. He noticed something else on _that_ arm, something similar, but larger, not so narrow. He'd seen many wound marks in his day, and he recognized a burn when he saw it. "Lola, what happened to you?" The way she tried to cover them alerted him that this wasn't just some sign of past accidents. She sighed.

"Okay, promise you won't tell anyone? I mean, _no one_?"

"Yes," he breathed. He really liked Lola, and he was concerned for her. She paused, as if working up the courage to say something.

"You know…how I used to go out with Tim Sheppard?"

"Uh-huh," he replied, trying to work out what Tim had to do with this. And then it hit him exactly what she meant. "No," he whispered in horror. "I know he's a rough guy, but he would never…"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about him," Lola murmured, looking at the ground. Two-Bit gently touched the scar. "Don't worry. It doesn't hurt anymore."

"What did he _do_ to you?" Two-Bit was seething. He'd always thought Tim was an okay guy; maybe a little rough, maybe a little bit more bad news than the people Two-bit hung out with, but generally okay.

"Trust me when I say this, you really do not want to know. I'm surprised he didn't try to go at you when he saw us together at the party last night. Look." She didn't speak for a second. "It's nothing. I'm fine now, don't worry about it."

"Alright."

"And you _can't_ tell the gang. Whatever he's done to me in the past, it'll be three times worse if he finds out I told. Understand?"

"Yeah. I don't like it, but I trust you. Go shower, we'll shake up the Curtis world a bit."

* * *

**Just another beautiful example of how, no matter how crappy life seems, it does banter on. Not much happened here, but it sets the stage. Press that button. ****Review.**** Tell me what's wrong and what's great. Please?**

**tIGRE**


	19. Phone Calls

**Hey. It's spring break! Here yall's go. I might also do a birthday present to myself and update on my birthday, if I'm not too lazy. But I probably am. Happy spring break, everyone! Oh, and also: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, VAMPIRE! WE WOV YOU! **

Chapter 18-Phone Calls

**Soda**

Almost a week later, everyone had pretty much cast their vote-Dallas wasn't coming back anytime soon. The fourth of July was coming up, and we spent as much time as we could indoors-we felt like cakes about any time we tried to go outside. Steve had disappeared off the face of the planet-much to Gruss's disappointment, we had to hire another mechanic, and now it's up to me and Lolly to make sure he gets a nice long track record…poor sap never even knew what was coming at him till he was outside gassing up cars and we were inside having a nice, cool laugh. 

Dess's situation was still…delicate, to put it lightly. She was a shell; she ate and slept fine as far as I knew, and she was around, not locked in her room, but it was like someone had ripped her soul out and replaced it with a stone. As far as I knew, nothing was up, but it was putting strain on Pony and Lolly, and even Two-Bit. Then…came the phone call.

It was late. I dunno what I was doing up so late; everyone else was already in bed. We were kinda on an unofficial party hiatus, so there wasn't much to do. I think maybe I was watching TV, but I was almost asleep, because I remember falling out of the armchair. Prop streaked off my lap and up the stairs with an angry hiss.

"Hullo?" I asked sleepily. I think my half-deadness was about the only thing that kept me from slamming the receiver down.

"Please don't hang up." I was awake. I was very awake. Anger does that to a person.

"What do you want?" My voice was tempered steel.

"Hear me out a sec, okay?"

"You have thirty seconds."

"I was totally set up by Sheppard. I talked to Steve and he told me everything, Soda he was using Steve to get info on all of us. He put Rebecca at that party, he's the reason we're losing it. He's been playing all of us like pianos since Dess and Lolly went to their first party."

"You think I'm gonna buy that bullshit?"

"You better, cause it's the truth. I'd beat it outta Tim if I had to."

"Dallas, do you know how much I hate you?"

"I can guess, but I don't think it's anywhere near how much I hate myself."

"Good. You've got ten more seconds. Wanna say anything else before I hang up on you?" There was a long pause.

"Is Dess okay?" His voice rasped suddenly, caught in his throat, and I felt some pity for my old friend.

"No, she's not. She's a complete fucking wreck without you, although I can't see why because you obviously don't give a rat's about her."

"Damn it." In the background, a sound like something hitting the floor door a wall sounded. "Shit. I gotta stop doing that. Look, Soda, do you tolerate me enough to listen to what I gotta say?"

"I'm trying to tolerate you long enough not to hang up on you right now." I stood up and began pacing as far as the cord would let me and back again. 

"Great," he replied drily. "Look, I'm trying to make this work, alright? I'm working at J's full-time now, stable hand when I'm not riding. I screwed up, I get it. I was drunk that night, I saw a familiar face, I was trying to work out whether I wanted to stay with Dess or not…yeah, it was stupid, okay? I'm sorry. I'm coming home as soon as I can, but I can't now, so help her deal, please?" Something in his voice made me think about what he was saying. My frustration drained out. 

"Dammit Dal, I'm so tired. We're all maxed out, I doubt we can take it anymore. Pone sleeps for, like, hours when he gets home from de-tasseling; he works harder than that during track season and still bounces around when we don't tie him to a wall." Dal chuckled.

"Huh, I remember that. Darryl got _so mad_ at us after he found out."

"Yeah, well, that's not all. I dunno if I can keep us all alive. Me and Loll bring in about as much as Darry did, and we only stayed up then because of _my_ salary."

"Do you guys need money? I just got my check for this week…"

"No. I think I might call Darry later if things get worse. Do what ya gotta do, man." He sighed, and I could imagine him putting a hand over his eyes, like he'd been doing a lot lately. 

"Thank you so much. I'll call tomorrow night, alright?"

"Dallas, if you think you're gonna talk to Dess-"

"I don't. I just can't stand not knowing, okay?"

"Alright. Bye." I hung up the phone and accidentally crashed right there on the couch, to be woken the next morning by an angry Lollypop. 

"Damn him to hell." 

"What?" It was early on a Saturday, July second, and I woke up to hear my girlfriend cursing like a sailor. 

"Dess was up all night last night. Worst I've seen her this whole week; she didn't stop speaking or crying _once_. The nights seem worst for her…" She trailed off, dumping herself on the couch beside me. "Damn that man."

"I doubt he did it on purpose," I told her, running my hands over my face. Silence stretched between us and I sighed inwardly, cursing myself for speaking what had been on my mind all night. Lolly fixed me with a disbelieving stare on the verge of a glare. 

"You_ doubt_ he _meant it_? Sodapop, how can you say that? Your sister cries her eyes out every night over him and she still can't get out of his hold. He's hell's son, you mark my words. That boy will cause discord wherever he goes. 

"And you defend him. God Soda, I can't believe you." She stalked off, obviously angry. It confused me how I'd set her off. She was usually so understanding. I figured she'd at least try to understand where Dallas was coming from, but then, she was easily closer to Dess than I was. It didn't really surprise me that she was so bitter toward Dallas. When…_if_…he came home, he'd have to watch his back. After that last comment, I'd advise him to be on the lookout for wooden stakes and garlic. 

--

**Lolly**

Dess kept me up all night last night. It was like, against reality, she sensed Dallas closer than usual and the fact that he wasn't with her threw her into even more sadness. 

She only slept when day came, God knows why. I was already touchy from the late night, and having Soda defend the worthless sack of scum-sucking glory threw me off it completely. I actually left the house to cool off, went back to our place and found Two-Bit and Lola up and watching TV.

"Loll? What's wrong?" Two-bit seemed confused at my presence, and I can't blame him. I spent most of my time at the Curtis', I hadn't even seen our house in the past month.

"Soda and I are…_disagreeing_ on something," I told him calmly. "I decided to leave before I threw something."

"What are you fighting over?" he asked, rising form the couch to follow me into the kitchen. 

"Keith, you have a guest. Don't worry about me, okay? Take care of Lola before you start worrying about me." His eyes searched mine, mirrors of my own gray eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Fine. I know what this is about. It's just stupid to fight over stuff like that, okay? It's over, move on." With that he walked out of the kitchen, leaving me feeling ashamed. Whether or not what happened was intentional shouldn't matter to me. I should be focusing on what I could do.

With a jolt, I glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall and found that it was almost Independence Day. I remembered, unbidden, the first Fourth of July we shared with the gang, me and Two-Bit, back when we first moved here; when he was Keith, Dallas was an innocent, and Soda still lacked the knowing, hard eyes of a greaser, man before his time. 

_They were kids from the block, four kids who were brothers and sisters, a young blond boy, and a darker, trusting boy who tagged along with them. The oldest, whose name was Darryl Curtis, was eleven, his younger brother Soda and the blond were nine, Darryl's sister, called Dess, was eight, my age. The dark kid, I learned from Darryl his name was Johnny, was seven, and the youngest, another Curtis, was only five and stuck close to his father. _

_It was dark outside as all of them, me, and my brother Keith sat and watched the sky while fireworks lit it up. Keith went right up to the blond and Soda to make friends, and I found myself playing with Dess happily. We all hit it off right away, and when Keith and the blond got in a good-natured scuffle over something I can't even remember now, Darryl just laughed at my expression._

_"That's Dallas, don't mind him, he thinks he's pretty hot stuff."_

_"He is," Keith had confirmed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and coming away with blood. "Look what he did."_

_"Shows you," Dallas crowed, strutting up and sitting down with us. Even then he had a master's walk. "Who's she?" He gestured to me._

_"That's my sister," Keith replied. "Her name's Lollypop." _

_"You guys should hang out with us from now on," Soda proclaimed. "You just move here?" Keith and I nodded, and Soda grinned happily. Darryl was pretty detached as an eleven-year-old, but he warmed up eventually, and we were all friends by the time the night was over and our respective parents took us home. I couldn't help but notice the Curtis' parents also took Dallas and Johnny, although I was sure from their looks they weren't Curtises, and I remember wondering why that was._

I smiled at the sweet memory. My anger at Soda was pretty much gone but for a rebellious splinter that said it was wrong for him to side with Dallas. I even got the terrible feeling that maybe he was defending what he would one day do to me, before I shook it away, feeling horrible about myself for thinking it. 

--

**Pony**(A/N: Yay, Pony, gets a POV. I was debating making this a third person event, cause, you know, I don't like using original narrators much. I feel it's trying to steal what the author had, but let me know if it was better in first or if I botched it.)

The house was quiet when I crept downstairs, dressed down for the day. Soda was on the couch, listlessly flipping through channels.

"Hey," I greeted, but he just nodded. I changed tracks fast and sat down on the couch next to him, leaning forward to look at his face straight-on "What's up?"

"Me and Loll had a fight," he replied in a low, even voice. I blinked. 

"Really? What about?" He sighed and looked at the ceiling for a pointed moment. 

"You get ten guesses, and if you guess right on the first one you get ten Soda radness points." I slumped. 

"Oh. Where's Two-Bit?" He shrugged. Look carefully and take a lot of pictures, guys. This is a rare creature-the other five percent of Soda's personality. 

"I dunno. Probably at his house; Lolly went over there, too." We sat in silence for a while until the phone rang. It made us both jump, and Soda grinned at me. "Your turn."

"It is not," I replied, but I got up to answer it.

"Curtis residence."

"Hey Pone." I grinned. 

"Aw jeez, Dar, it's good to hear from you." Darry's name made Soda sit up straight in the other room and listen. Darry laughed on the other line.

"Likewise, little buddy. How is everybody?" A double-bladed question. I could say good and he'd know I was lying, or I could say bad and let him get worked up about stuff that wasn't as important as what he was doing. After some delay I replied with, "Okay," and he instantly sensed the half-truth.

"What's wrong?" His light voice dropped away to reveal the all-to-familiar tone of paternal concern.

"Nothing," I replied, closing my eyes and covering them with my hand, leaning heavily against the wall. 

"Ponyboy…"

"Nothing," I replied more forcefully, but he didn't buy it for a second.

"Let me speak to Soda." I sighed.

"Fine. Soda! Darry wants to talk to you." soda leapt up as though he'd just been waiting for the cue. As he approached, he gestured for me to cover the receiver. I did, and he asked in a low voice, "Does he know?"

"No. But he suspects." Soda rolled his eyes.

"Great. Give it here." I handed him the receiver and his voice was convincingly bright.

"Hey Dar…no, nothing's _wrong_…that is _not_ my tone of voice!

"Why Dallas? Come on, you just talked to Pony, Two-Bit's here, can't you hear Mickey? Why else would we have it on? That's not a very good-" There was a pause and 

Soda's face fell. "Course he's not here. I have no idea _where_ he is. How did you guess?" Another pause. "Was it really that obvious?"

"How should I know? Probably at Buck's…he was cheating on Dess! I don't think that's the whole story either, but I'm not exactly physic, am I? Two-Bit and Lolly are at their house…Bit took his girlfriend over there last night and Lolly and I had an argument…don't start in on me, I got it covered. Heck yes." He paced back a few steps and minced his feet, which he always did when he was uncomfortable. 

"I dunno…bills haven't come yet. You don't need to come down, it's only been a month! She's fine. No, she's sleeping. I'm not gonna wake her up after Lolly spent all night trying to get her to bed. I told you, _she's fine_." The last silence was the longest, and Soda nodded several times and mouthed some words-he was obviously being given directions. 

"Okay. Don't worry, I can do it. Yeah! I'll call you if something happens…no, so help me God, if you come down here before I ask you to do it…" He grinned and chuckled. "Yep…love you, too. Here's Pone." He handed me the receiver back. "Don't be surprised if him and Elle show up in about three days."

"Hey," Darry greeted me again.

"How's it goin' down there?"

"Eh…most of these kids like to party…they don't understand why I'm not impressed with their little bashes. They don't even have beer pong here. We taught 'em how to do it and we still own them now!"

"Good for you. So you're enjoyin' it?"

"Yeah. It's a lot more fun than I thought."

"Great. It's okay, Dess is getting better all the time."

"How's detasseling?"

"Psch. How's detasseling…do _you_ remember detasseling?" He laughed. 

"Yeah."

"And you ask me how it is…well, I gotta go," I told him, looking over my shoulder to see Two-Bit, Lola, and Lolly come in. "Everybody's here and they want breakfast."

"Take care 'a yourself, bud. Love you."

"Love ya, too. Hey, I'll see if Dess wants to call you when she gets up, okay?"

"Great. Bye."

"Bye." I hung up the phone. 

"Wonderful…" I turned to see everyone in the kitchen watching me. Soda had obviously told them the situation. "Cats outta the bag, ladies and Two-Bit. Darry knows." 

"How does he feel about it?" Lolly asked. I shrugged.

"I dunno. He talked most about it with Soda." Everyone looked at him.

"Uh…I can't really say. He sounded like…he'd kinda expected it. He's coming home, I know he is. I don't think he'll care that his professors don't clear him, he'll be here."

"Is that good or bad?" Lola, relative newcomer to our situation, seemed to have a lot more insight on our situation than I would have expected.

"No idea," Soda replied. "We'll have to see when he gets here."

--

**Dally **

I leaned heavily on the shovel in my hands, closing my eyes against the stream of dying sunlight coming in from the open hayloft and trying not to gag on a combination of sweet hay dust in my mouth and nose and the bittersweet memories that seemed to pace my mind like a killer these days. 

_A little while longer,_ I pushed myself mentally. _Just a little more. _The new job had turned out to be more than a way to earn money and pacify my restless mind. It was a test of how strong I was, like quitting smoking had been. How long my will could beat my body. I was breathing hard, trying to get my emotions under control. It was a usual occurrence these days, sharp memories coming from nowhere and hitting me so hard I couldn't focus on the task at hand for a good five minutes. I knew this was a good sign, no matter how much it hurt. 

What could prove that you love someone better than, when you're apart, you can't eat or sleep or function without pain? It would make seeing her again that much sweeter. But it was still difficult to swallow. 

Someone entering the hay barn interrupted my troubled thoughts and I turned on him thankfully. It was Jay himself, holding a lead rope connected to the headstall of my racer, Any Victory Accepted. 

"You've been moving hay long enough," he told me with a little grin. "Go ride for a while, Vic's coiled tighter and a bedspring." He traded me, a rope for a shovel, and I vaulted onto the horse's high back easily. Victory danced beneath me and pinned an ear back, swinging his head back to look at me accusingly. I laughed and turned him out of the barn, forcing him into a tight-reigned walk until we were out of the way of anybody we could hit, then I gave him his head. 

I dunno what flying's like, but running a racer as fast as he can go has to be something like it. He had surer feet than any other mount I'd had, and on top of it, his mouth was soft. A jockey's dream. For a moment, I forgot about everything that was troubling me in the rush of riding fast. Like always, there was the headwind against me and the strange realization that it was a still day-it wasn't wind, it was me pushing through the stagnant air. 

And there was the adrenaline rush of the chance that, though I'd ridden so many times and the days of falling had left me, I might loose my grip. Finally, Vic settled down and sighed as though he were incredibly pleased with himself. I looked back for the first time and saw that the gate he'd rocketed through was at least two-hundred yards away. 

"Good boy," I praised him, rubbing his neck. He tossed his mane. _I know_, he told me. I dropped the riding reigns against his neck and he got the picture. I let him wander and allowed my mind to do the same, glancing at the sky. I remembered, with a ghost of a grin, the words from Johnny's letter to Ponyboy. _Show him a sunset, Pony. I don't think he's ever watched one before, I mean really sat down and watched it._ He didn't know I read it…right before I pulled the suicide run. I went to the hospital alone…Johnny asked me to give the book to Pony, and I meant to, but I read the letter inside and figured he could get it if he wanted. 

After I got out of the hospital, I started spending more time jockeying, and riding about this time of day became an unintentional habit. I'd seen plenty of sunsets in my day. 

"Let's go back, run a few paces." Vic bobbed his head and I was struck again by his excelling intelligence. He cantered back and I ran him until he was tired, put him back 

in his stall and rubbed him down, gave him grain and shut him up for the night. Then, it was just a matter of going out to the jockey house Jay had on-ranch for cram-scheduled riders and waiting for darkness to fall so I could call Soda again and get my fix.

* * *

**Yup, things are pretty much back to normal, except a few bizarre phone calls…notice anyone missing? I can't say Dess is up to capacity enough that she can keep a good grip on narrating. Sorry, she might be back in the next chapter or two. I'd also like to restate, because people have been commenting like this: I have this whole thing planned out to the ending, and I will not change it now. Hope for the best and review!**

** tIGRE **


	20. The Return

**Y'all ready for this? By the sound of it, you are, but will you like what you get?**

* * *

Chapter 19: The Return

**Darry**

I hung up the phone and looked at Elle. We were staying in a small apartment dorm near the college, and she stood beside me.

"Dally's gone. I have no idea where he went, before you ask."

"Oh my God, did Dess go with him?" I gave her a look until it was painfully obvious.

"I want to go home this weekend. I'm taking summer courses anyway, I don't think they'll care much, as long as I sign a return form and get back here by the start of the school year."

"Darryl, think about this," Elle said in a cautionary tone. "She sounds fine. Maybe she needs this." I gave her a withering stare that she didn't totally deserve and felt terrible about it right afterward. I took her in my arms and kissed her forehead.

"Sorry," I sighed. "It's just…damn him, I knew he'd do this and it really bugs me that I couldn't get her to see it too. I have to go home."

"Darry, I'm sorry," Elle told him more forcefully, frowning. "But you can't just up and leave." I walked away from her.

"Elle, tell me the truth. Would _you_ go back if Lola got dumped by…say…Two-Bit? And she was dead to the world? _Would you go back_?" She looked at the ground, and I knew I had her.

"Okay, but we have to plan for it and get you excused…_Tim._" I paused in my frantic packing.

"What does Tim have to do with this?" I asked, a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"He was talking to Lola about college. I…I got the idea of taking you to college from him. Do you think this is his fault?" I made a face.

"I doubt it."

"I dunno, Darry. I can see Tim fighting Dallas for Dess. They fight over everything; they can't stand losing to each other. I saw enough of that when I worked in the prison. They fought whenever they could get at each other."

I shook my head-how could Tim possibly intelligent enough to plan this? I couldn't even _see_ the connection, let alone imagine how Tim could've planned it.

"It wasn't his fault…or yours for that matter. Let's just get this over with." Again, her eyes flicked to the floor.

"Alright."

--

Twenty minutes later I opened the door to my last professor's classroom. A few frantic lies about a dead aunt and I had the release form signed. We packed that night and promised we'd start out for Tulsa the next morning. Tulsa was only an hour and a half or so away, but I'd promised Soda I wouldn't come home…yet. When I got home, Elle had the phone and was talking to someone I quickly realized was Dess.

**Dess **

I woke up when I heard the phone ring. It rarely rang during the day-ever. Prosper was curled up on my throat, purring loudly. He slept with me all the time, and I found it oddly comforting these days. I got out of bed and went downstairs, just as Soda was finishing a sentence.

"Hey Dess!" Soda grinned at me, and I threw an admittedly watery one back at him. "Darry called-he wants you to call him when you feel up to it, alright?"

"Okay. Hey, can we go out tonight? I'm gonna go crazy in this house." I asked tentatively, still unsure of what I was saying myself. I knew if I didn't get some fresh air beyond my open window every night I was gonna go nuts, but to a party might be pushing it.

Soda opened his mouth to reply, but didn't speak for a time. Lolly looked at him and he nodded ever so slightly.

"You sure? The only parties around this time of year are Shep's or Buck's, and there ain't no _way_ I'm taking you to Buck's." I shrugged, but for some reason I felt the need to laugh. So I did, right out loud. Lolly cocked an eyebrow at me, and the resemblance to her older brother made me laugh even harder.

"Oh my God, it feels so great to laugh," I sighed, wiping my eyes, a smile turning my mouth upward. It was the first real smile I'd given in almost a week and a half.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Lolly grinned, giving me a quick squeeze.

"Well, I couldn't stay dead forever."

"Actually, we thought you might," Soda teased. Two-Bit ran into the room.

"Holy shit! Dess is alive!" He ran over to me and hugged me so hard, he lifted me off my feet. "Rawr! Ponyboy!"

"What?" Pony, who had appearantly wandered out of the kitchen after he finished talking with Darry ran in, landing bent over with his fingers splayed out.

"What is it?!"

"Holy Moly, Dess is alive!" He, too, hugged me.

"You guys! Jeez! It's like George Washington just walked in our front door! I was alive this whole time." A new girl, she looked like Elle, but couldn't be, because Elle was in Oklahoma City, walked in.

"Ah, this must be the elusive Dessarea I've heard so much about. I'm Lola, Two-Bit's girlfriend and Elle's younger sister." My mouth dropped open, and I looked and Lolly.

"Are we qualified for intermarriage yet?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Amazingly, no," she replied drily. "Although none of our _kids_ can do anything, 'cause if they do, we're sunk."

"So, our man problems are over?" Lola asked me, coming over and hugging me lightly, then holding me at arm's length as if to look me over. "Oh yeah. First–boyfriend – leaving –you –misery is well over. Moving on…second boyfriend." I laughed. I liked this particularly flaming blond of Two-Bit's.

"Well, I'm glad you guys missed me. Can I have the phone, Soda-Ki? I need to call my wonderful big brother back and tell him I'm doing fine." He handed me the phone and I dialed from the number he'd given us.

When someone picked the phone up, I smiled.

"Hey Darr!"

"Hey Dess. This isn't Darry," the other person laughed.

"Oh. Sorry, Elle. Where's Darry?"

"Out getting passes from his professors so he can speed down to come see you."

"So you _did_ hear." I looked at Soda, shooting him a withering glare. He smiled and thumbs-upped me.

"Yeah, but you sound a lot better than Soda said you were."

"Uh-huh. Breakthrough; I'm fine, you guys don't have to come home."

"Actually, I think we do. Your brother almost bit my head off when I suggested we stay until you called. Oh wait, here he is, why don't you talk to him?"

"That would be great." I heard the phone being passed.

"Hello? Dess?"

"Hi Darry!"

**Soda**

While Dess was distracted, I became preoccupied with what I wanted to tell Lolly. I tapped her on the arm and motioned going to my room. She followed me upstairs, where I shut the door.

"Okay, one, I don't want you to throw anything when I tell you this. Two, sit down. On the bed. And do not stand up." Thankfully, she listened without a fuss. I crossed my fingers behind my back. "Please don't be mad at me." She slowly frowned.

"Soda…"

"No. _Listen. _I've been getting phone calls every night recently. It's…it's Dallas I've been talking to." I cringed back because I knew she was going to throw something and I was glad the room was bare with the exception of a few containers on the dresser several yard away, containing hair oil, Lolly's precious few perfumes, and a solitary bottle of cologne.

"So that's where you got the idea that he's innocent," she hissed. I drew a breath. I had to tell her this, no matter what she felt. She couldn't make me bite my tongue about this.

"Yes, and the more I listen to him, the more I think he's very sorry."

"Good, he-"

"_Shut up_ for a minute and listen, Loll!" My voice was louder than I wanted it to be, and I lowered it.

"Right now, he's living on-site at the Slash J stables, working as a hand and jockey. He's making good, solid money, and I think he might propose to Dess when he comes back." A venomous silence was born.

"_Back_? The bastard is coming _back_?"

"Yeah. He'll…he'll be home by the end of this month. That's what he told me last night." She crossed her legs at the knees and mimicked the motion with her arms, shooting me an 'oh _really_?' look. I sighed. "Damn, this is going to sound like such a romance novel…he really loves her. A hell of a lot more than he ever loved Sylvie, and probably more than he loved my mom." Lolly's expression softened. She was remembering mom, how much all of the gang had loved her like she was their own mother, especially how Dally was pretty close to being forgiven when she died because he'd been willing to work with her.

"He sees a lot of your mom in her, doesn't he?" she asked softly, not looking at me.

"I think at first, yeah. Please, just give him a chance when he comes home. We'll see if Dess still wants him, and if she does, that'll be enough for me." Another pause worked it's way into the conversation, and I went and sat with Lolly on the edge of my bed.

"Okay, he gets one chance. But mark my words for later- I _never_ said I wouldn't punish him before he gets it."

"I love you," I told her, slipping my hand in hers. She stiffened.

"Don't start, Sodapop Curtis. I'm not sure exactly how angry with you I am right now." I lay down in her lap so I could see her downcast face and smiled a crooked grin at her that always worked. She fought one of hers back.

"Aww. C'mon." I stood up and brought her with me, forced her to stand chest-to-chest with me. I wrapped my arms around her waist. "Please?" She looked up at me and I took that chance to steal a kiss.

"Argh," she exclaimed. "Sometimes I hate you so much." She glared and I shrunk. "But then you kiss me and I like that more than hating you," she smirked. Then she stole my hard-earned kiss back again.

**Lolly**

So now the truth was out. Lazing around all day and waiting for:

A: the moon to show up so we could go _partay_ or

B: Darry to show up,

whichever happened first, was effortless, especially with Dess back to her fluttery self. Sometimes I wonder if she's bipolar or something, because she was out of that mood so fast I was amazed. But then, everyone gets over things differently.

We spent most of the day playing drinking games, poker, and my new favorite game, BS. It was a surprisingly simple and satisfying version of almost…poker. Finally the front door opened.

"Darry!" Dess shouted running to the door and leaping into the arms of her big brother, which she didn't seem to notice were already occupied by a suitcase.

"Ah! God Dess, get off me before I fall off the steps!" Darry shouted, and Soda, Two-Bit, Pony, Lola and I raced outside like puppies to greet our returned family.

"Elle!" I heard Lola squeal, hugging her sister.

"Hi Lola! How's it been?"

"Great! This family if freaking insane!"

"I _know_! Innit wonderful?"

Darry looked around, surveying the whole scene with his keen green-blue eyes. He frowned.

"Are we missing Stevie, too?" he inquired.

"Yeah," Soda murmured. "We don't really know what it was all about…but he left a little before Dallas did. We haven't seen him since." Darry nodded, grabbing him in a one-armed hug.

"I'm sorry, little buddy," he told me. "But that reminds me. Dess?" She walked over, trailing me along; she'd grabbed my hand when the subject turned to Winston. He hugged her again.

"Are you okay, honey?" he asked her, pressing his cheek to her hair. This unusual display of affection made me wonder why Two-Bit never did that…oh yeah.

"Yeah. I'm getting over it. I'm sorry," she told him, a few tears escaping her eyes. "You told me but-but I didn't listen."

"Nah, this isn't your fault. I shoulda killed him when I had the chance. Do we know where he is?" We all shook our heads. "Ah, well, whatever, then."

"Hey Dar," Soda spoke up, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You wanna go to a party tonight?" Darry sighed like we were used to, that nasty old man sigh.

"You know what, little brother?" He broke into a grin the likes of which I'd never seen before. "I thought you'd never ask."

**Dess **

The blast was…a blast. Sheppard made a few backhanded grabs at me now that Dallas was gone, but I was done with his type for a very long time. Still, I was reluctant to start anything. It would be inappropriate to get into anything while I was still getting over Dallas, and unfair. So I drank a little, danced a lot, played some beer pong, poker, and a delightful little drinking game called Kings.

A great a powerful thing it was, to be around people and feel alive again. Dancing really did the trick, even if it was just alone. I had a lot of fun, and we found out when we got there that it was Independence Day. Someone had brought in a crapload of illegal fireworks from South Dakota, and toward midnight someone rounded up enough people sober enough to still hold a lighter and run in a straight line and we had us a little fireworks show.

Six people lined up a row of artillery shells and shot them off in a synchronized manner until the shells were gone. the fireworks were commercial-grade and went off with spectacular crashes and explosions of light hundreds of feet in the air. We outdid any home firework display in the city, and when we were done, amazingly, we heard applause from the rodeo yard, where the city was holding it's Fourth of July street dance. Everyone had thought it was a professional display, not a bunch of drunken greaser kids out by the railroad tracks. We thought that was hilarious.

When we finally went home to crash at four in the morning, we were exhausted. For the first time since Dallas left, I didn't turn on a radio or open my window. It was absolutely quiet in that room for the first time since I could remember.

--

One week passed-no flew. Darry being home was great, as was having a hot gourmet meal every morning thanks to Elle, rather than toast and bacon or cereal. I could definitely tell we were happier, and Darry managed to get his old roofing job back for the summer, until he could go back to school in the fall. Life was wonderful.

I was getting better all the time, but I still had to wince when Dallas' name was mentioned, or when we spotted a towheaded hood walking down the street-foolish, I know, but the feeling of him being a part of me never really went away. Then one evening, I fell asleep on the couch. Soda and Lolly had stayed up to watch a late-night movie, and insisted I sit up for it with them.

They treated today like a special holiday or something, a date I had to be waiting for. Like perhaps something special was going to happen tonight.

I woke up late in the night. Very late. I didn't know what had awoken me, because it was so dark I couldn't see, and quiet as death's house. I was laying against the arm of the couch as far as I could tell, and I was covered by a blanket that Lolly must've thrown over me when the two went to bed.

That was the first thing I noticed-Lolly normally would have woken me to go up to my room. Strange. I inhaled and settled better, but then I opened my eyes again, praying this was no dream. I breathed in again. Yes, there was no mistaking it. The general area carried a smell so familiar it made my heart ache. I bit my lip against an exclamation and sat up on elbow, gingerly in case I was right.

I turned my head, still hoping with every fiber of my being that this wasn't a dream. SodaandLolly _had_ been acting like tonight was special, but I had often dreamt like this. My gasp barely had time to make it out of my mouth before I kissed the lips of the one I'd always love. I took a breath and felt a tear-just one-of overwhelming joy slide down my cheek.

His jacket fell off the couch from where he'd slung it, but we were too wrapped up in our own little universe to care.

"_Dallas…_"

* * *

**Oh, now you guys are happy. That makes **_**me**_** happy. But the trouble isn't quite over, although this is kinda where the commotion ends. Now all that's left is…one chapter and the epilogue. PS- I really like the idea of young Dally latching on to Mrs. Curtis and treating her like the mom he never had. I can just see him doing that, before he got all mean. So that's what **_**that**_** was all about. And there might be a sequel! Tell me what you guys think! Till next timeNocturne-ess**


	21. The Last Reckoning

**Hi. My my, I'm wound tighter than a rubber band today. This is the end. Other than the epilogue, of course. **

* * *

Chapter 20: The Last Reckoning

**Dallas**

I didn't sleep until Dess did, and she was up very late, considering I came home at midnight. She bawled into my shoulder for ages, but I didn't care. I was too busy taking her in again. When she finally quieted, I was sore from holding her in the same position and from hearing her cry, even though she told me they were happy tears.

"Are you done?" I rasped, pressing my forehead to hers. "I hate it when you cry." Indeed, I felt giant rubber bands along my chest were pulled tight and the back of my throat hurt.

"Yeah," she murmured. She breathed in deeply. I laughed a little.

"What are you doing?"

"You smell good," she replied simply. _I_ thought I smelled like hay dust, horses, and aftershave, but I wasn't in the mood to argue.

"Have you slept?" I asked her, brushing her hair out of her face and noting the dark rings beneath her bright eyes.

"Yes," she lied a little too quickly. A pang went through me.

"S'all right, neither have I. Please tell me you've been eating?" She frowned.

"Why? Haven't you?" I pushed the question away.

"Doesn't matter. You need to sleep." She frowned again and pushed back off my chest to sit farther away.

"Says you. I dunno how long it's been since you looked in a mirror, but you don't look too hot yourself." She traced what I knew must have been circles under my eyes. "Where have you been all month?" Her voice had deteriorated into a whimper.

"Jay's. I been workin' my ass off. Got a nice fat paycheck for it, though." I paused and saw embers growing in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I had to get everything straight. About me. About you. About me and you…" I trailed off and made sure her attention was snared.

"And I decided that what we got don't deserve bein' thrown away," I whispered. I shifted and lay down, tucked her into my side and sighed inwardly. A huge collective sigh, built up over the past month, of stress and frustration and stupidity. "Considering you still want me…I ain't gonna leave you again."

Dess turned to lie on her side and face me. She pillowed her head on my shoulder and threw an arm out across my chest.

"Prove it," she commanded, but I could tell she was getting ready to fall asleep. Her eyes half closed, she leaned over and kissed my cheek. "G'night," she yawned. "Love…"

I grinned as she fell asleep in midsentence. And I was asleep ten minutes later.

**Lolly**

Oh, I have to admit, that man has guts. He also has _no brain_. I woke up in a rotten mood anyway. I knew Soda and probably Winston were up to something, but I didn't know what until I walked downstairs and saw him and Dess on the couch.



I think about the only reason I waited until he woke up to beat the tar out of him was that Dess never would have forgiven me if I killed him in his sleep. Soda came down with me, and he pulled on my arm.

"Ignore it. Ignore it, I've already talked to him, and besides, if you kill him while he sleeps, it's on your conscience."

"Fine," I growled, "But I get to take a baseball bat to him when he wakes up."

"Only if he gets a toothpick to defend himself," Soda reasoned with me rationally. Despite myself, I grinned.

"Okay, he'll have his toothpick. But don't expect me to let him eat at the table."

"Done."

We ate a small breakfast and mulled over the party.

"It was good, wasn't it?" Soda asked, throwing back mug after mug of coffee to quash the headache he'd been complaining of since last night.

"What?"

"The fireworks. I helped fund it."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. We always do. Tim had one of his boys drive up to South Dakota to get everything. We beat the little Socies out of their pathetic show, that's for sure as hell." He grinned smugly at me over the top of his cup.

"That last one nearly blinded and deafened me at the same time," I informed him drily, referring to the finale, an artillery shell that had been as big around as my neck. The shell itself was the size of a grapefruit.

"That one was the best," Soda argued, whirling a sugar spoon. "And we won thirty bucks at beer pong," he pointed out. "Don't forget that."

"We did," I agreed. "What's up with Darry and Elle?"

I remembered last night, one moment in particular-Darry leaning against a down tailgate, Elle leaning against Darry. And then, in the flash of the last firework, Darry leaned down and whispered something in her ear. She had whirled around with an open-mouthed smile and hit him lightly on the chest. And then they burst out laughing.

Soda leaned back in his chair and stretched, a lazy cat's smile on his face.

"You ain't gonna believe it," he drawled teasingly.

"What?"

"He proposed to her. I went and helped him pick out the ring a few days ago." My mouth dropped wide open, and I smiled uncontrollably.

"Oh my gosh…did she say yes?"

"Judging from the look on Darry's face when they went to bed last night, I would have to say she did." I put my hands over my mouth and leaned back.

"Wow. Good for him…just…wow. When are they getting married?"

"Three weeks from now."

"Wonderful. We have to congratulate him."

"When they wake up. I think they deserve to sleep in a little." The door opened and slammed, announcing the arrival of my big brother, Lola in tow. The stopped dead when they saw the couple on the couch.

"Holy shit!"

**Dess**



"What?" I sat bolt upright and Dallas' arm fell off of me. He opened his eyes briefly and closed them again, shifting and murmuring something incoherent. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure," Two-Bit replied, shooting me a sideways glance "It all depends on whether or not you know you have a friend." I rolled my eyes.

"Don't worry Bit, I know exactly what I'm doing." Two-Bit's eyes grew still and somber.

"Really? Funny, that's what Lolly told me when I caught her and Soda at it…" he trailed off and Lolly slammed a cup down on the table, her face pale. Soda was chuckling behind his hand. I looked at her in disbelief.

"Keith," Lolly murmured warningly.

"Lolly?" I asked, incredulous.

"Sodapop!" Darry yelled from the stairwell, where he must have caught the tail end of the conversation.

"Lola!" Lola piped brightly, for no apparent reason. We all looked at her and she shrugged. "What? I can't be a part of the conversation?"

"Hush, guys," I pleaded, making a soothing motion with my hands.

"Forget it," Dallas murmured, shifting again and rubbing his eyes, as the sun was hitting them from the open window.

"What the _hell_?!" Darry exclaimed, clambering down the stairs to ogle Dallas. "When did _you_ get here? Dess, what the- oh my God, I knew space and time was deteriorating when Elle said yes."

"To what?" Two-Bit, Lola, and Dallas and I chorused.

"He proposed. Hello Dally," Elle added, looking under the stairwell. "And I said yes. What, may I ask, is the occasion? All the greasers standing still?"

"Shock and awe," Soda supplied. "No one knew Dallas was going to be home." Lolly elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Okay, I did. But that's irrelevant."

"Yeah, it is. Stand back, Dess." Lolly looked furious. I threaded my arms a little tighter around Dallas' waist and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Lolly-"

"_Stand back_." I stood up and shot Dallas an apologetic glance, then shuffled over to Soda.

"Please tell me she's not going to kill him…" I pleaded, kneading the inside of Soda's elbow in anxiety.

"Can't promise, but at least he gets a toothpick," he told me in what must have seemed like a reasonable tone.

"_What!?_" My voice seemed to mark the start of a small war; Lolly lunged at Dallas with a shoe in hand, Two-Bit and Elle moved reflexively to help, Darry yelled something incomprehensible as he scrambled to grab Lolly in mid-flight, Soda calmly reached out and grabbed Lolly's shirttail and yanked her backward a few inches, Lola threw it into reverse looking startled, and Ponyboy stumbled down the stairs with a "Wassgoinon" to add.

"Rrrrrraaaahh!" Lolly growled as she threw the shoe. Dallas caught it in one hand and tossed it aside.



"Whoa! Lolly, _sit down!_" Two-Bit ordered, flabbergasted. Lolly glared at Dallas meanly and spat out a name I refuse to print here, and everyone began talking loudly at once, myself included.

"Shut up!" Dallas' suddenly brittle voice cut through the noise. Everybody fell silent. "Can I say something?" A sudden wave of "NO." surprised even him.

"Okay, then at least talk one at a time," I mediated, placing firm hands over Lolly and Dallas' mouths, as it looked like we might have another explosion.

"Me first," Ponyboy commented. "_What is going on_?" We gave him exasperated looks and Soda raised his hand.

"I'll give him the abridged version," he offered, dragging Pony into the kitchen. "Anybody who hasn't been paying attention since the beginning of the chapter can come too." Two-Bit and Lola followed them into the kitchen.

"Darry, do you have something to say? Something important?" I specified as he opened his mouth angrily. He closed it and thought for a second.

"You know what? I have nothing to say…at the moment. Wait till later."

"Lolly, you're next. Same to you; if you can't say anything nice, don't say it at all." Lolly glared at Dallas for several tense seconds, a stare which was returned with a level gaze of his own.

"I doubt I'll ever forgive you, but if she trusts you, I guess I have to let you in the house. At the most." She spun on her heel into the kitchen, where I assume she pacified herself with venting at Soda.

"Umm…Darry, you got anything to say?"

"Not in front of you. But…welcome back to the family, Dallas." I think we were both surprised by that.

"Um…so you're just going to forgive me right now?" Darry shook his head and looked at the ground.

"I trust Dess, totally crazy as that may seem. It could be because I'm getting married and my sense of the world is a little tipped. I don't know. If she's willing to forgive you…_once_…I'm willing to let you back in…_once_. And besides, you're like…like a family dog. You run away, we're all sad, you come back; you're back in the circle. Once. You get it? Once. Everybody gets _one_." Dallas grinned and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Okay, I guess I'll take that where it stands. Fair enough. Can I at least eat at the table?"

"You'll have to speak to Lolly and Elle about that."

"Great. If they have their way, I won't be eating in the _kitchen_ for the next few years." He glanced at me and one side of his mouth almost turned up. Almost. "I guess I better go talk to the…_ladies_." We watched him leave.

"At least he's cleaning up his mouth," I offered to Darry, grinning sheepishly. He pointed at me lazily with a finger.

"_Don't_ come crying to me. You knew enough to say well enough alone but you didn't." He paused and tapped a few fingers against his knee. "You gonna be alright now?"

My eyes were sill fixed on Dallas' back as he carefully poked his head in the doorway to the kitchen and retreated a little as If flinching before looking back more slowly.



"I think we're gonna be just fine. Thanks, Darry." He snorted.

"Let's put it this way; if he screws up again he's getting castrated. Whether he likes it or not." I hid a fit of laughter behind my hands as Darry, now in a foul mood, got up and walked away.

I decided to go congratulate my new sister in law on a job well done.

In the kitchen, Elle was making a big breakfast. Lolly and I shared a glance and took the cooking utensils form her hands.

"You need to go plan your wedding," Lolly told her, fingering a newly relinquished spatula.

"We get to be maids, right?" I asked her.

"What color will the dresses be?"

"It better not be green-"

"Because green only looks good on redheads-"

"And we're not redheads, Elle."

"We're just not." Elle laughed, picking up our babble as playful.

"Get outta here," she muttered, pushing us back.

"We're serious, Elle," I told her. "You aren't going to be in the kitchen today. You aren't going to _work_ today."

"Whatever you say. Get out of the kitchen boys!" Elle shouted at Soda and Dallas. "We need some lady time." They both grunted and vacated.

**Lolly**

We made breakfast and chatted back and forth about weddings, kids, houses, and other girly stuff that the guys made random retching noises at when they passed the kitchen. Once we were done eating we left the kitchen with all the food out for the boys and decided to go out to the swimming hole.

Everyone said they'd catch up later once we were done being "really really girly", as Soda put it. We even got Lola to come. It was the first time we'd ever done anything as a group of girls, just me, Dess, Elle, and Lola. It seemed like it was time to do it, though, after the proposal and Winston coming home and everything.

"I still can't believe it," I told Elle, grabbing her hand to look at the diamond again. It was a small diamond set in gold, but it was understated-elegant, not flashy. I liked that.

"When's the wedding?" Dess asked.

"Three weeks."

"So soon?" Lola asked, startled.

"Yeah, see, he won't let me plan it. Says he's got everything laid out already. Which reminds me…do you guys know anything?" We didn't-how could we.

"I bet you he was going to propose in Oklahoma City," I told her sagely.

"But the Fourth had to do," Dess finished for me knowingly. "Believe me, I know Darry. He was probably going to propose to you on a Post-It note." We laughed.

"Yeah, well, here's the thing," Elle called over her shoulder, looking back as she readjusted the bag in her hands, walking off the road into the sparse trees that marked the start of the copse. "He already tried the sticky note thing. Didn't work. I ignored him."

"Well…you have to give him something for persistence," Lola commented.

We paused at the lip of the woods to slip off our shoes and pull off jackets. Underneath we wore undershirts, old jeans, and beneath that were our swimsuits. The swimming hole wasn't too far in, and the trees gave off nice shade as we pattered along the trail in our bare feet, shooting lazy comments back and forth.

"You know, I really don't think he liked Oklahoma City," Elle told us.

"Really?" I asked. "I'd think he'd like it. A chance to get away from all his kids, you know?"

Elle blushed-the comment had it's desired effect.

"Two, I think, would be plenty," she said quietly, fighting a smile. We grinned at her.

"And you, Lola?" Dess asked her, her hands on her hips. "How many kids are you going to have with dearest Two-Bit?"

Lola would never blush-too loud. Instead she snorted.

"If I get my way…one. A little girl. But good luck getting Two-Bit to have a kid. Dessarea?" Dess turned a violent shade of scarlet; it was startling because of all of us she should have been the least embarrassed…I mean, your pride is pretty much gone when you so much as _look_ at what she's dragging around for a boyfriend.

"Two. If any. It's going to be a miracle if he ever decides to let me have it my way, though."

"Withhold having anything to do with him till he decides he's going to do it for the kids," Lola advised. We looked at her in surprise and she shrugged. "Not like I've ever done it, but it seems like it could work."

"Okay, Lolly's turn." Everyone looked at me and I frowned in thought.

"One. Boy or girl. I feel bad for her if she's a girl."

"Why?" Dess asked. I cocked an eyebrow at her.

"You think _Darry_ was bad? You haven't seen _anything_ till you see how our boys are going to guard their daughters."

"I feel worse for the first boyfriend than for the daughter," Elle contradicted.

"Yeah, the daughter can get out of it. All that's gonna be left of the boy is a concrete mound," Lola added.

"True," I relented. We were on the lip of the hole now, the still blue water stretching out before us. We draped our over clothes over braches and sat down in the sun for a moment before jumping in. But right before we were about to dive in, something caught my eye.

Lola-her arm, more specifically. I noticed she'd been trying to hide it, but I just shook it off. There was a scar-a burn-running all the way down her arm.

"Lola…" I motioned toward the scar and she covered it, her eyes hitting the ground.

"Tell us," Dess urged, looking concerned.

"Lola, when did you get that!?" Elle looked scared to see the scar. "Who gave it to you?"

Lola looked quickly at her sister and then at the rest of us.

"Okay…I'll tell you, but only if you promise to help me get him back…"

**3****rd**** Person Omniscient **

Angel was curled up on the couch when Curly finally came home. He was dropped off by bus-he was surprised to see that Tim hadn't come to pick him up. He had always come to see him in juvie…why he wouldn't come to pick his little brother up escaped Curly's tiny mind. The house was dark and empty. Which made him wonder…no, he was Tim. He wouldn't get caught for…anything important…

"Angel, _what happened_?!" he asked, running inside. "Where's Tim?" Angel glared at him.

"Where do you think?" Angel scoffed. "Somebody finally found out about the abuse." At Curly's blank stare she added, "C'mon Curly. Quit playing stupid. You know exactly what he used to do. You think I don't know the shit that got passed around at his parties? The garbage he trafficked? He's in jail. Probably for a very long time."

* * *

**XD! Okay, to defend myself, I've never read any Hintons with Angie in them, so I don't know her relationship with Tim. I decided to make her bitter. Yay. Um…I'm sorry, I have been so busy all of May, which I know is no excuse. If you could ever forgive me…I didn't have writer's block, I just didn't have the time…**

**Epilogue is next, and I know what I'm going to do. IF ANYONE WANTS A SEQUEL, TELL ME NOW. IT WON'T GET DONE IF NO ONE WANTS IT. Thank you. **

**TIGRE(ess)**


	22. Epilogue

**Umm…I just want to start by saying thank you to everyone. I was just reading all your reviews and stroking my ego a bit. This will be a full-length chapter and, good news, everyone who reviewed wanted a sequel, so SEQUEL IT IS!! Yay. Oooh! Special thanks to WishIwasBella78 for the scene in the beginning.**

* * *

Epilogue: So it Begins

**Dess**

Darry sat across from me. There was no one home. Everybody was somewhere else. In the girls cases, they were trying on dresses, in the guys, they were working on suits. Elle's daddy was treating.

Me…I already had my dress. The one at the shop fit me, but it was too big for Lolly and too short for Lola. Elle still hadn't picked out her dress. I was going to go with the guys, you know, for moral support, but Darry asked me to stay. Now he rolled a quarter across his knuckles-an unfortunate habit he'd had since he was a kid.

"Darry? You wanted to talk to me?"

He sighed and let the quarter still.

"I…I want you to talk to me about you and Dallas." He held up a hand to silence me as I drew a breath. "No, I know I told you I'd leave it where it was, but it's been nagging on me. Why do you put up with him?"

I thought, tapping my fingers on the table. How do you put that kind of thing into words?

"At the risk of sounding like a misunderstood fifteen year old-" I ignored Darry's snort that said there wasn't much of a difference- "I think everything was supposed to happen the way it did. I'm just a lowly greaser girl—who am I to question fate? And…at the risk of sounding over pompous, I think I'm, like, the only thing that's keeping him here. He could do great things if someone just trusted him.

"I know what I'm doing, okay? I don't know how I know. I just do. It's like you knowing how much weight you can carry on a roof without falling, or what part of a building can hold you and what can't."

"That's a bad analogy."

"Not when you think about it. Your thing is construction, my thing is Dallas. I trust you, you trust me. It's a two-way street, Darry. And I'm testing myself. You can't say _you_ don't. I'm not your seven year old sister anymore. It's your own fault you didn't get to see proof of that, but now I'm a grown woman, okay? You just need to back off a little." My voice took on a pained cast. "How can you expect me to run straight if I've got a ball and chain on one ankle?"

"I'm not trying to put a chain on you! I'm trying to keep you safe…" he trailed off, seeming to sense that that road was a dead end one. "You don't get how he is, Dess. I know I've told you that before, but he could leave you pretty damn fast, and the fact that he didn't this time has nothing to do with whether or not he will someday!"

"You think I don't now that? Good _God_ Darry! That's what it is about love, okay? You give someone the power to break you in half and your trust them not to! You can't rule it, and I know that's hard for you to grasp, but you just let it go where it will!" I realized I had stood up and sat back down heavily.

"I'm trying to prove something to you here, Darr. If I was still a little brat, I wouldn't be talking this out with you. Start treating me like an adult, please. That _is_ what I am. A little trust would be nice."

"I told you I trust-"

"Yeah, but you didn't really mean it, did you?"

He fell silent and I gazed levelly across the table. Darry had his hands folded in front of him, looking at the table.

"Okay…no. No, I didn't. I admit, it's really hard for me to see you as an adult anymore, because you're my little sister and you always will be. And I can't say I totally trust this whole 'let it go where it takes you' idea either, but I can say I should trust you more. You're not going to be under my roof forever.

"So…" he sighed as if this was killing him. "I _do_ trust you. Or…I'm working on it. And I mean it this time. But if you're only doing this because-"

"Nope. He's not holding anything over me or anything. I stand here on my own two feet on this one." I smiled, he smiled, and we both stood up. "Thank you, Darry."

"Hey." He started walking away. "What are big brothers for?" He paused, right at the door, his hand on the frame, looking back at me. "And by the way…if you get pregnant…on purpose or otherwise…before you tie the knot, I _will_ carry out my castration threat. Personally."

--

**Soda**

"Well, this is just retarded." I couldn't help but grin when I heard Two-Bit's strangled murmur from the other side of the dressing room door. Behind me, Pony was already in his suit—cleaned up good for a no-good-hood—and Dallas was having a tape measure practically shoved up his nose by a fitting lady.

"You alright in there, Bit?" I called.

"Yeah… what about you; I bet you look just like wedding Barbie…I mean Ken." He cackled and I punched the door good-naturedly, making the lady jump and nearly take out Dally's eyeball.

"Oh my God! Soda, quit making the old lady jump!" For once in his life, Dallas Winston sounded genuinely terrified…of a woman who was a foot and a half shorter than him and half blind.

"Sorry Dally," I apologized. "That fix it, Two-Bit?" I added, speaking to the door again.

Two-Bit, sounding a bit shaken, answered. "Y-yeah. Thanks, Soda."

"Any time, wedding Ken," I shot back, leaning against the door and polishing my fingernails on my lapel. I didn't think I'd hit the door that hard, but obviously it was a little louder from inside the dressing room.

Two-Bit opened the door all at once and I fell backward on my can. Everyone laughed. I jumped up and grabbed Two Bit by his starched collar, slamming him against the wall despite his stocky build. I was frowning, but fighting laughter, which probably sold me in my eyes. I let him go when Dallas yelped—I assumed the lady had almost poked out another organ.

"Guys, I'm not joking, if she does something to me, you're all dead meat!!"

"You boys quit roughing up the merchandise!" the old woman yelled, confirming our suspicions—she was both blind and deaf. Or really, really close to both. "Okay, go 

try on the second suit on the rack closest to the door…it has a blue silk napkin in the breast pocket. You're that Winston boy, right?" She looked at a clipboard to confirm it.

"Yes, attending with Dessarea Curtis…the color is correct."

"Which rack?" Admittedly, it was a dim question. Dallas obviously hadn't been paying attention, but we were all surprised by what happened next. The old lady grabbed Dallas—_by his ear—_and dragged him over to the rack.

Pony, Two-Bit, and I looked at each other in alarm…and burst out laughing. I mean really laughing, like howling. I had to hold onto Two-Bit to stay upright, and Pony flat-out fell down on the floor.

When the laughter died, I got a good look at Two-Bit. He was wearing a suit identical to mine and Pony's, and probably Dallas', but the napkin and shirt underneath were different, a dark, hunter green that set off his flaming red hair. Mine was dark blue to go with Lolly's sapphire silk.

Elle had decided that the bridesmaids could all have their own dresses because we were so mixed. We ended up having Two-Bit and Dallas take colors that suited them, and Lolly take ones that suited her. So Two-Bit took green for his hair, Dallas took sky-blue for his eyes, and Lolly took sapphire for herself in general. We just had to get suits and dresses that matched, which wasn't hard.

Ponyboy had trouble-he had no one to go with. We finally decided, with the girls' help, on a light red. It, according to Lolly, brought out his eyes and the little bit of red in his hair. Beats the hell outta me how she figured that one out.

Dallas returned grumbling darkly and clutching a tux with a light blue dress shirt under it and hit the dressing room. About three minutes later he came out, looking very annoyed, very un-Dallas, and very…small. Like he was shrinking away from the suit— which wouldn't surprise me at all.

He mumbled something under his breath, but all the girls—who must've been waiting for us all to get dressed hoarded us. They made us line up like we were in front of a firing squad and looked us over—very slowly. Like, painfully slowly.

"Alright boys, you look fine," Elle finally said, looking pleased with herself in a simple snow-white dress. "Take them off, we need to get home. I want everyone full of sleep…for tomorrow."

We groaned and retreated to the dressing rooms, shed the tuxes at the speed of light, and were gone before the crazy old bat that had it out for Dallas knew we were gone.

--

**Dess**

Okay, I have to say it. Even I had butterflies the day of the wedding. I can't imagine how Elle managed without puking. Lolly and I got dressed at the church dressing room and walked over to the guys', because we had to fix everything.

"Good God Dallas, I can't believe you don't know how to tie a tie," I told him, tsking and doing up the light silk expertly.

"I don't know," he defended. "I thought it was pretty good that I knew what it was supposed to be."

I grinned fleetingly. "That is true." I played with the cloth in his breast pocket, straightened his lapels and collar and held him at arm's length. "You didn't grease your hair today, did you?" He shook his head no. "Good boy. No roughhousing, please." I 

paused in sifting everything from his cuffs to his tie around and looked down. "You look really good cleaned up, Dally," I told him softly. "I don't think you believe me, but a tux suits you better than a leather jacket and jeans do." I checked the underside of his chin gently as I walked out of the room. Bridesmaid syndrome was getting to me—I don't know what part of me thought we'd ever get married, but there was a bittersweet hope there nonetheless.

The next half hour passed in a blur of hair dressing, makeup doing, and general primping. Elle's father—newly remade up with—just barely pulled up in a suit and had time to grab Elle's arm to take her down the aisle when the organ music started.

We were all in place—some random cousins from Elle's family did flower girl and ring-bearer—we couldn't get Pony to do either—which meant all the gang had to do was stand there and brim with joy. Which I must say we pull off very well. Every once in a while Lolly would brush my hand as if to say, _One day, that'll be one of us_.

--

**Dallas**

My breath actually caught in my throat when Elle came down the aisle. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I lost touch with reality for just a second, and the veiled woman walking toward us was Dess. I only came out of it when Darry moved a few feet away to take Elle's hand from her father. The tiny ring box in my pocket suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and Soda shifted with me, as if the one in his was bothering him, too.

The ceremony went on without a hitch, but it was really hard to keep my mind on the wedding itself. It was never so hard for me to stand still. I let my mind wander all across the last, hectic week.

When we found out Lola had been abused by Sheppard—big surprise, let me tell you—we didn't waste any time in getting his ass landed in jail. No skin off my nose, if you ask me. And with that, the story of Tim's big pathetically elaborate plan came out of me and Soda—what we'd pieced together. Here's what we've got:

Tim got Steve on his side—probably my fault—and used him to blackmail us and steal an old flame's number out of my jacket pocket one night. At the same time, he used Lola to plant ideas about college in Elle's mind, which put them into Darry's mind too. He just sat back and watched us rip ourselves apart—it only got worse after Darry left—until I exploded. Like planned. What he didn't bank on was Dess not coming to parties anymore—she wasn't around, which meant his whole complicated plan blew up in his face. And we laughed.

Clapping jerked me out of my trance—Darry and Elle kissed as bride and groom. I clapped too and shot a well-aimed grin at Dess, who smiled back.

The reception was going to be at some dance hall Elle's family had picked out—we'd all made pacts _not_ to drink much at the reception, so as not to embarrass anyone. When we got there, we mingled for a while before meeting up with Soda and Lolly…just like he and I had planned.

As one, we dropped to one knee. The look on Dess' face sealed the deal—this was the most important thing I'd ever done.

"Dess…"

"Lolly…"

"Will you marry me?"

Yeah…we were eighteen. But hey…why wait? Lolly and Dess grinned at each other and nodded before both of them threw their arms around us. I swear, one or both were crying. All the people around us started to clap, and soon it spread. I glimpsed Darry's shocked face and laughed out loud as I led Dess to a more secluded corner. We had things to do, and from what I could tell, Soda and Lolly did too.

**Darry**

I have to admit, I was amazed. I knew Soda and Dallas had been planning something, but proposals…wow. I guess, while it kills me to say it, Dess was right. Lolly was happy—she was distracted. And so was I, replaying everything that night.

Elle walked down the aisle and her father handed her off to me. Just looking at him made me nervous, made me feel like a schoolboy asking his daughter out. Then he grinned and nodded at me—I had _his_ approval. The priest said his words and we interjected that the right times.

When he asked us to read passages, I had mine picked out. I didn't even need the Bible.

"_Love endures long and is patient and kind; love never is envious nor boils_

_over with jealousy, is not boastful or vainglorious, does not display itself haughtily._

_It is not conceited; it is not rude and does not act unbecomingly. Love does not insist on its own rights or its own way, for it is not self-seeking; it is not touchy or fretful or resentful; it takes no account of the evil done to it.It does not rejoice at injustice and unrighteousness, but rejoices when right and truth prevail._ Corinthians, 13:4-6." I had glanced at my brothers and sister—that had been mom's favorite verse. She read it to us all the time; we all had it memorized simply out of repetition.

Elle's was more simple: _Love bears up under anything and everything that comes, is ever ready to believe the best of every person, its hopes are fadeless under all circumstances, and it endures everything_. It was more Corinthian scripture; 13:7.

They were good pieces, I thought, for a wedding, and a good way to sum up this crazy year. The the priest continued talking, and when he asked for the rings, I fumbled a little, but steadied my hands. I didn't want to look like an idiot.

Only a few more minutes, and I kissed my bride in front of everyone. I felt my ears go red, but it didn't really matter. It would be over soon.

Now, all the stood between me and a quiet life was socializing with the inlaws. Someone shoot me.

**Dess**

Dallas led me to a dark corner where the music wasn't so loud and the lights weren't so bright. He smiled very gently and slipped the ring on my finger—it was an understated thing that I adored; a thin gold band with a small, inconspicuous diamond set into it.

"It should be bigger…but it was all I could afford," he apologized, leaning coolly in the corner. I leaned back against him and tipped my head to see his face.

"It's perfect. Very you. Very us. How long have you been planning _this_?"

"Since I got home. Most of my money is gone again. Gonna have to go to work some more. Win a few races." He paused to kiss my cheek. "Don't care. So, what do you 

want to hear tonight?" His arms looped around my waist and he swayed back and forth to the faint beat of the music. "Anything you want, you got it…for a night."

"Anything…" I murmured, shutting my eyes to imagine. He touched his chin to my shoulder, breathing across my neck to whisper anything I wanted to hear in my ear for the next hour or so. And that was how the night ended, too; when we finally went home and I shut my door and locked it—our eyes closed, the only ones in the universe for a little while, promising each other whatever our hearts asked for. I slept peacefully when Dally's murmurs finally hushed me to sleep—I had my tiger. And I could see beautiful beginnings pushing through the cracks.

* * *

**YOU HAVE AN ASSIGNMENT! Everyone who reviews is to rate this story and put it in it's place in the Outsiders fandom, one being the best and ten being the worst. Half points count, and be truthful!**

**Thank you to…**

**Everyone who read (you wonderful people you!)**

**Dally & Soda (you super hot greasers you!) **

**All the other greasers (you amazing…greasers you!)**

**And the music and it's makers! (you super musicians you!)**

**NOTE: Scripture references are accurate. I own nothing, and this was the same year as when Johnny died. Only in the summer. Difference. **

**This is not my last. You'll hear from me again soon enough…wait till school gets out! If anyone finds mistakes, sorry. I'm doing this at midnight because I didn't wan to loose my inspiration!**

**-tIGREess oUt!**


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